Let the Sunshine In
by xoxhonneyxox
Summary: Sequel to Lost in the Darkness: Mora lives, but she awakens over thirty years later. Hiding her identity, she is embraced by the Marauders and becomes who she is meant to be, a Gryffindor. But what happens when her past - when he - catches up with her?
1. Another Chance

1. Another Chance

The world of Mora Cartea was dark.

Nothing could be seen for miles around, nothing but the black immensity of nothingness. The cries of one, terrified scream echoed through her mind, still ringing violently in her ears. His shouts would forever go unanswered, leaving Mora listen as it pleaded for some chance, some miracle, something Mora did not know of, yet now she feared it so dearly.

And then suddenly, the scream faded away into Mora's infinite night, leaving her completely alone once again. And just as the world seemed as if it were to implode, destroying the last of the existence,

It didn't.

The wisps of warm breath fled across Mora's bare neck, sending an eerie chill up her spine. The faint whispers of voices around began to spread into Mora's ears, filling her head with more sound than she could bear. The voice grew louder and louder, each gaining their own expression, their own identity that Mora could barely distinguish for one another.

As Mora's veins began to slowly creak with blood again, her body began to awake from the near dead state it had been thrusted into. Pain spiked through her entire body, stretching from each and every limb to another. The sounds of anguish flew into Mora's throat, wrenching their way into her mouth. Unable to contain her pain any longer, Mora felt her mouth suddenly jerked open, letting out a scream of torment collapse from her lips.

The sounds of frantic feet submerged around Mora, anxious and worried murmurs growing louder and louder. Mora felt as if hundreds of daggers were piercing her entire body, unimaginable pain coursing through her.

As if awaking from an all too terrible nightmare, Mora felt her entire body leap forward in the bed. Sitting erect now, Mora chest burned as if her lungs were on fire, set ablaze inside her.

Panting heavily, Mora felt her head being harshly tilted back, a sour yet far to familiar potion shoved mercilessly down her throat. Gagging for breath, Mora suddenly felt her entire body shocked fully awake again, the numbness that had once consumed her fading away.

Slowly, Mora let her eyelids lazily crease open, instantly being blinded of the blazing white light that immersed the entire room. The same feeling Mora remembered so much from what felt like days ago. She knew exactly where she was, again. Once again, she opened her worn, hazel eyes, an old pair of faces greeting her awakening.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Mora stuttered, still trying to regain control of her breathing. Was this Dumbledore? He looked just like the Dumbledore that Mora remembered for mere days ago, yet he was so…different.

A long, cascading white beard fell of his chin, much more intensely than the one Mora had remembered. Wrinkles began to slowly consume this man's face, the lines of age signaling a very large birthday numeral coming up for the professor. This Dumbledore looked a good twenty years older than the one Mora remembered from a few hours ago.

"Good morning, Miss Cartea," he responded cheerfully.

How long had she been asleep? Surely, it could not be more than a few days. The longest she had ever been put in the hospital wing unconsciousness was for three days, was this the same case? The last time Mora was here for so long, another memory had ravished her mind, taking control of her heart as well as her mentality. Had this been the same case?

Racing her mind, Mora felt helpless as she came up with absolutely nothing. Surely she had to have had a memory. What else could be the cause of her sudden hospitalization? And then, before she could herself any warning, the images of mere moments ago came flooding back to her, the memory the past scene in the girls' lavatory bombarding her all at once.

Tom.

The snake.

Eric.

The fight.

The spell.

And then, the rest blurred away into the back of Mora's mind. Running rampant down her torn face, tears began to well inside of Mora's eyes, unable to contain themselves any longer.

"There, there, it's all alright, you're safe now," a voice cooed as Mora felt herself being pulled quickly into a women's arms.

"Madame…Garrah?" Mora choked out through a sob, practically suffocating in the women's embrace.

"Yes Mora, Shhhh," she cooed. As she pulled away, Dumbledore whispered something into her ear. Taking one last remorseful look upon the girl, Madame Garrah shuffled away, leading into the office beside the hospital wing, leaving Mora and Dumbledore utterly alone.

"Professor," Mora started suddenly, ignoring the pain swelling through her arms, "How, how long have I been out?" She looked around nervously. Every time she had awakened, beside the time at St. Mungo's, Tom had been there.

Waiting patiently at her side as if nothing else in the world existed. And now dark surprise filled Mora's eyes. He wasn't there. Despite how angry Mora could ever be with him, she had never expected this.

Mora watched as the once relieved look faded out of the old man's eyes, leaving them dull and full of misery. She felt taken aback by this sudden change, anxiousness growing inside her.

"There is much I must tell you, Mora," he said softly, sitting lightly into the chair at her bedside. A lump grew deep inside Mora's throat as she heard his grave tone. "This will not be easy, for either of us," he whispered.

"Professor…" Mora stuttered, choking through her words. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"At least seven hours, however I feel it was longer," Dumbledore replied.

"How much longer?" Mora gulped, realizing that the situation had to be much worse than she expected. However, she did not realize how bad it was.

"Thirty three years."

"Wha….what?" Mora stuttered. "Oh, no, no, that's impossible," she insisted nervously, trying to ease her way out of this entire mess.

"In a way, it is, for the truth of the matter is, you really have only been sleeping, here in the hospital wing that is, for seven hours. Seven hours ago, you were in the year nineteen forty-five. And in the blink of an eye, here you are, nineteen seventy-eight, being found hours ago in the Gryffindor common room. About thirty three years after anyone has seen you."

Mora store back in utter silence. She felt as though her stomach were in knots, tying all of her intestines together tightly. Fighting for breath, Mora grasped her neck, fighting the wheezing sensation taking over her normal breathing pattern.

It was almost as if she spiraled back into the lifeless state she had been trapped in mere minutes ago. Opening her mouth as wide as her jaw would allow, Mora was able to force a few good shards of air in, allowing her to breathe once again.

"H-how?" she whimpered, still unconvinced that this could ever be happening. How was it that she had merely had fallen into a new decade? Was that even possible?

"That, Mora, is the question I have been asking myself for thirty years," Dumbledore explained, leaning closer. "It would seem that you are one of the last of a dying breed, Miss Cartea.

"It would seem, you are the Next Temparious."


	2. The Next Temparious

2. The Next Temparious

Mora sat uncomfortably in the headmaster's office, occupying the lone wooden chair that another she had once known had found himself in on numerous occasion. Numbness pierced through her legs, leaving an icy hollow feeling inside her. It felt as if an icy blast of autumn weather that raged just outside of the castles' lengthy windows had engulfed Mora, but sadly, it was not the unusual September weather that was affecting Mora so. It was something much worse than brutal storm battering the castle.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his hands delicately turning through the pages of the book. The book wore an old, tattered cover, the pages inside stiff and languishing beside themselves. It looked as if no one had ever even opened this book in a hundred years.

Well, one hundred and fifty six years to be exact.

After searching for a few more moments, a look of achievement came across Dumbledore's face. His fingers lightly grazed the words scratched out onto the book, each sentence written by freehand. "Here it is," he whispered. Slowly, he raised the book off the cluttered desk, placing it lightly into Mora's hands. "Would you like to, or shall I?"

Preparing herself for whatever secrets this book may uncover, Mora took a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly in a feeble attempt to reach a calm before the storm. Reluctantly, her eyes cracked back open, falling back to Dumbledore. "You, I can't do it," she muttered quickly.

"Very well," he sighed, turning his attention back to the book. Straightening his half moon spectacles on the tip to his nose, he pressed his face closer to the page, the words becoming more visible in his sight.

"Chapter three hundred and forty seven; The Temparious," he said softly, clearing his throat.

"There have only been five recorded tempariouses in history, the first two being a direct descendant of Merlin himself, and the other the niece of Godric Gryffindor. It is speculated that the two may be somehow distantly related, resulting in the ability existing in both of them. They same has been speculated of the three other Temparious, yet nothing proven.

"The Temparious possess a power of which that no other can obtain through artificial means; the ability to travel through time. When exerted to a surplus of emotion, to which the point the Temparious is able to break free from the binding of humanity's linear timeline, they are able to leave the dimension the dwell in for one in another time, usually as far as centuries before or after the time that they are departing from.

"It is impossible to control the tempari, the teleportation itself, when it occurs. There is no incantation that can cause it nor stop it. The Temparious cannot choose when they power takes hold of them, nor can they control what period of time they tempari shall place them in. Any way to determine the location of a tempari is unknown and seemingly impossible.

"The five Temparious recorded in history," Dumbledore paused, as if he were finding it within him to go on. Quickly inhaling, the words began to flow from his mouth, no expression nor inflection in his voice one so ever.

"The five Temparious recorded in history never made more than three tempari in their lifetimes. All known of the first Temparious, Carielngious, survived his first two tempari, the first two taking him forty years into the past, _sixteen eleven to fifteen thirty-one_, and then seventy-six years to the future, _fifteen thirty one to sixteen forty seven_, only seven months after his first tempari. Carielngious died shortly after, the cause of death still unknown.

"The second Temparious, Dulcina Gryffindor, was only thirteen years old when her first tempari occurred. The tempari took her fifty-two years into the future, _eighteen-oh-two to eighteen fifty four_, where her abilities as a Temparious were first identified in comparison to those of Carielngious.

"On her second tempari, Dulcina went back two years into the past, _eighteen sixty one to eighteen fifty eight_. Meanwhile, in the year eighteen fifty, in a sense there were two of her, one from her first tempari, one from her second. However, this state did not last long.

"From the second tempari, Dulcina suffered from a fractured skull and many organ system failures. She died two days later, with herself from the first tempari watching. For forty-one years, Dulcina lived knowing her fate. In an attempt to spare her self, she attempted suicide, only to tempari the moment before. This could be the possible reason for her death -"

"Can we skip this part?" Mora jumped in quickly, her pulse racing and her hands calmly. She could feel her stomach twisting so tightly as she heard of the pain and suffering caused by this curse she bored, even so far for one Temparious to try to die by their own hands. It was all too much to bear. "Just for now….." she said softly.

Dumbledore's eyes welled with concern as he looked back to Mora. "Of course, you can read this section another time…." He soothed. "Moving on….." he started again as he flipped a page or two.

"The tempari itself takes a vital toll on the physical and mental health of the Temparious. The exact process in which the Temparious takes during the tempari is unknown, however, it can result in the following

*Serious head injury

*Internal bleeding

*Suffocation of the lungs

*Judgment impairment

*Heart Failure

*Loss of motor skills; temporary or permanent

*Memory loss; temporary or permanent." Dumbledore paused, looking upon Mora with a worried air.

"I think that's enough for now," he said quietly, quickly closing the book with a soft thud of the cover hitting the tattered pages.

"Memory loss…" Mora echoed, "So that's why…that's how, I can't…." she stuttered on, unable to form full sentences at the moment.

"It lead me into this conclusion, leading me to this book," he explained, "However at the time, I was unaware of all that the tempari held."

"But, that's it?" Mora asked, the air of defeat consuming her. "There's no other way, no other chance that I may not be a Temparious?

"I'm afraid not, Mora," Dumbledore said, his voice suddenly wavering. "For, there is more to this story that needs to be told, more that you do not know, about someone you once knew."

But Mora didn't need Dumbledore to go any further. By the deep, weary look surfaced in his light eyes, Mora knew exactly who he had to be referring too. The only person that could take such a great toll on Mora.

"Tom."

"It's not true," Mora scoffed, clutching to her sides for dear life. Her entire body shuddered, as it remained curled up on the hospital wing bed. The white and blue pine stripped pajamas shivered against her skin. "None of its true, none of it!"

But it was, and there was no way for Mora to avoid it. Every word that came out of Dumbledore's mouth had been pure fact, nothing left out to shield Mora from pain, no sugar coating on top, no twisting any details.

Everything he said about the boy that had once been Tom Riddle was true.

The boy who just seemed to fall out of existence, who pursued a mediocre life when he left Hogwarts, whose hatred and disdain for the muggle race cemented into pure rage, who now caused havoc across the world, not sparing wizard nor muggle nor squib, without even an ounce of mercy.

The boy who gave himself the title Lord Voldemort, the name that people across the country shuddered with fear when they heard it. A single name that twisted the only person Mora had ever loved into a beast she would never recognize.

But how could any of this be? Literally yesterday she had been face to face with him, begging for some sense of closure, some resolution, some way to break off from the messy break up that had plagued them. Yesterday, when Tom himself had confessed to her of his plot, of the murders he planned. Yesterday that she watched as he attempted to kill Eric, and how his curse never reached the boy, instead to claim another through different means. Mora's mind instantly flashed back to the long conversation with Dumbledore, brining up some unwanted emotions.

"So, you're saying that no one knows I'm still alive?" Mora asked, her shock reeling through her expression.

"Except for myself, Madame Garrah, and you, of course. No one beyond the three of us know," Dumbledore replied. "After the…. attack in the lavatory that day, the case of whatever caused your 'disappearance,' came up with no answers, thus, it were assumed you were dead."

"Wait," Mora cut in, "how do you even know about what happened?"

Surely, there was no way Tom, or Voldemort, or, whatever his name was, no way he would run up to Dumbledore and tell him he tried to kill Eric and then accidentally killed Mora in the process. And Mora didn't think Eric would be so fast either to tell everyone how he got his ass kicked, not to mention he would probably be blamed for it all if he came forward.

"I have my ways," Dumbledore said discreetly, not finding much importance in the source of information, his eyes twinkling with his knowledge. "But besides for me and those present during the, incident, no one knows what truly took place."

_Those who took place,_ Mora's mind echoed, _Those who took place?_

"Yes, Eric Bayard is still alive, Mora," Dumbledore said, not even needing her to ask the question that was haunting her. "He emerged from that day seemingly unharmed, yet, he never really was the same."

"So Tom never…" Mora trailed, desperately wanting to answer the question, yet not having it within her to ask. Why should she care? The boy who grew up to be what looked like the end of the world killing off what seemed to be the end of Mora's life?

_Let's see…_ Mora's voice of reason rationalized. _How about the fact that you love_… _LOVED, not love, Tom and you really don't want to hear about him killing anyone? _

But what was the difference? Eric would only be another number in a long growing list of _Voldemort's_ victims? Why should Eric be any different?

"Voldemort never attempted to go after Eric, or any of his family. For now, they are safe or as safe as anyone is nowadays." Dumbledore paused, seeing that Mora's eyes had grown hazy, weakened from the information they were forced to soak in.

"Mora, there is another matter we need to discuss," Dumbledore said, breaking Mora out of her rampant train of thought.

_Oh Merlin, not something else!_ she thought, desperately needing a break from talking of the downward spiral she had just be thrown into.

"About what is to happen next." Mora listened intently, completely unaware of what Dumbledore could possibly mean. "There needs to be some…precautions, taken to ensure your safety."

"Precautions?" Mora echoed meekly.

"Yes," he responded, rising from his seat, "With the fact being that it is believed you are dead, there is no possible threat against you."

"Threat, you don't mean…you can't…you." But Mora had no way to avoid it. The harsh reality of the situation gravitated above Mora's head, crashing onto her.

The most dangerous and evil wizard in the world, and Mora could be his one weakness.

The tempari, the first tempari, when she appeared to Tom in the corridor in the fall of nineteen forty-four, must have taken her into the past.

That's who they had been chasing Mora since she was a toddler. If the tempari, Mora's very first tempari, took her into the past, _Voldemort_ and his followers would have known after they left Hogwarts. Somehow they discovered her secret and had set out to kill Mora when she was a child. If they destroyed Mora before she turned sixteen she never would have lived to her first tempari, and Tom would have succeeded in defeating his one weakness.

Tom knew that Mora was the one person who could bring out the best and worst of him. Mora was dangerous, a threat to all Tom, now Voldemort, had created.

She was the harsh memory of his past, one that he needed to destroy.

"They'll kill me, won't they? That's why they went after my family, the wanted me the whole time? They knew the whole time, before I even came to Hogwarts that night, they knew…"

"They won't come near you, Mora. Not as long as I am alive." His words brought comfort back into Mora, starting to reassure her a little that she would be safe if she were under Dumbledore's protection. "But still, we cannot allow you to return to school as Mora Cartea."

"Wait, return to school? Like classes?"

A wide grin grew over Dumbledore's face. "Ah, though you were off the hook there! You've only graduated your sixth year, Mora. As long as you're here, you'll finish school."

Mora allowed to self to smile slightly, shunning away even if for a moment the painful feeling that ceased through her heart. "However," Dumbledore continued, "We must take several steps to protect your identity. Such as…"

"Changing my name?"

"Preciously. You may keep your first name, however, I'm afraid your last name must be altered. As well as other things, such as your appearance." His eyes fell open Mora's head tracing over her golden locks.

"Oh no," Mora warned, instinctively grabbing hold of her hair. "No way am I…." But she was too late. Dumbledore had already drawn his wand. Pointing it at Mora's head, he muttered something under his breath. Protectively, Mora clawed to the arms of the chair, expecting the spell to hurt. Yet, it didn't, and before she knew it, Mora was no longer a bouncing blonde little Cartea.

"Take a look," he said, handing Mora a small pocket mirror take had laid messily on his desk. Holding the small shard of glass up to her eyes, Mora gasped in shock as she stared upon this new girl looking back at her.

Her once lavish, blonde hair was turned a deep, chestnut color, deeply setting off her already pale complexion. Her eyes too had been transformed. They now shone a glistening blue color, a sharp contrast to her once hazel eyes. Looking back at her reflection, Mora felt like a complete different person, as if that girl she had been mere moments ago was gone, lost in the dark depths of time.

"What do you think, Mora Smith?"

"I think…could I have a different last name? Smith is kinda….dreary."

"Very well. Which name would you like?" Dumbledore chuckled back, not at all fazed that his choice had just been rejected.

"Er…." Mora sighed, "I have no idea."

"Well, I'll give you the night to think it over. If not, then Smith it is."

"That's motivation enough for me."

Mora rocked back and forth nervously on the bed, still clinging her arms close to her. She felt as if her entire body were shaking, like she was to split in two at any moment. The world was spinning out from under her, leaving her to fall through the vastness of nothingness.

Nothing seemed to be whole anymore. Soft pellets of rain grazed against the window pain, as if brining a short cease-fire between the castle and Mother Nature. For the night, at least.

The sound of faint footsteps echoed through the hospital wing, just the way they had all those thirty so years ago. Mora felt as if the world had just been pulled out from under her, sending her reeling into a realm of the unknown.

How did Dumbledore just expect Mora to wake up and accept that she has simply skipped more than thirty years of their lives? That in a blink of an eye, she jumped from the forties to the late seventies without aging even a day?

Mora felt her body shudder, reacting to a sudden chill that had entered the room. What had happened to all of the people Mora had been at Hogwarts with? Surely, now they had all grown up, probably all in their thirties or so.

What had happened to them? There were so many questions that Mora kept locked away, harboring into the back of her mind. Where had they gone? Had any of them ever grown to forgive Jades? Were Ellery and Cassidy together? Did they have any children? Could they even be in Hogwarts?

Did any of them even remember Mora? Had they all just accepted that she had simply fallen off the face of the earth, just as everyone else had? Had any of them even missed her, mourned her, wondered how she had _died_? Did anyone, any one at all, even care the slightest bit that she was gone?

Well, there was one person.

"Mora?" the faint voice of Madam Garrah came from behind Mora's right shoulder. Not even flinching, Mora grasped the rough sheets of her bed closer to her, trying not to acknowledge the healer's presence.

"Mora," she cooed again, knowing exactly what Mora was trying to do, "you have a visitor."

"Tell Dumbledore I haven't picked a name yet," Mora mumbled, knowing all to well who her visitor must be. After all, the only people who knew Mora was even here were herself, Garrah, and the new headmaster.

"I will when I see him," Madame Garrah said quickly, "but your visitor won't gain much from that information," she added cheerfully.

_Wait….WHAT?_

Madame Garrah turned away from Mora, who at the moment was trying desperately to make sure she had heard the nurse correctly. "You may come in now," Madame Garrah said cheerfully.

Bewildered, Mora sifted in the bed, leaning over the edge to see a figure emerging from the door. His footsteps vibrated through the tiles of the hospital wing floor as he came closer and closer.

"Oh Merlin," Mora whispered suddenly as the face of her visitor came into view. Jumping out of bed, Mora planted her bare, shaking feet firmly onto the ground, as if reassuring herself that this was not a dream.

Without either of them saying a single word, the visitor stopped dead in his tracks, shocked and yet at the same time relieved to see Mora after all these years. Bounding away from the bed, Mora raced to the figure, flinging her arms around him.

He embraced her, still trying to convince himself that this wasn't his imagination playing tricks on him, as it had for the past thirty years.

"It's good to see yer again, Mora."


	3. Let Old Acquaintances Be Forgot

3. Let Old Acquaintances Be Forgot

"I still can't see how any o' this can be true, I mean, yer just so…" Hagrid trailed, Mora still clinging onto him for dear life.

"I can't either," she sobbed out lightly, "But it is."

"But, yer here, yer really here…yer not…." he went off, unsure of how to put words together to make some form of a sentence at the current moment.

"No, I'm alive," Mora choked out. "I just can't believe your really here, I mean," Mora stated as she pulled away, "You're just so much…"

"Bigger?" Hagrid interjected, "Well, dieting was never really fer me, yer see…"

"No, no," Mora cut in, "Just so much…older," she daze, the grown up image of what know seemed to be her one true friend still dazzling and terrifying her all at the same time.

"That's what happens over thirty o' so years," he chuckled.

"Uggg," Mora moaned carelessly, flinging herself back down onto her bed, "If I have those numbers shoved down my throat one more time, I swear…" she ranted. She looked up to Rubeus, only seeing him staring back at her, his chestnut colored eyes still widened to an enormous size. "What?" Mora asked meekly, breaking Hagrid from his stare.

"Hm-Oh! Sorry there, Mora…" Hagrid said rapidly, averting his uncomfortable gaze from Mora. "It's just, so….so strangd, seeing yer 'ere, after all these years…"

"But that's just it," Mora said softly as Hagrid fell silent. "For me, it….it hasn't even been a day since…" Mora raced him mind, remembering the last time she had seen Hagrid before she had ended up here.

_Well, what do you expect me to believe?…. You were caught, Rubeus. It's ok, you don't have to lie to me….you were caught…_

Those sour words still rang through Mora's ears, the bitter reminiscing tones haunting her every thought.

And then it all hit her again. The very last time she had even made contact with Hagrid before, well, in the forties to say the least. It was outside Dumbledore's office, the day after Hagrid had been sentence by the ministry.

Where she had so quickly and almost self justified to accuse Hagrid, to toss anyway any trust, any compassion, and friendship she had with him, just because of one, twisted lie that consumed him whole.

"R-Rubeus." She stated meekly. "How is it that…that you can sit here with me, and not even show any anger, just…. resentment, hurt, anything at all?"

Hagrid sighed heavily, momentarily looking off into the misty horizon that lay just beyond the window. "Truth is, the second I heard yer were alive, I was afraid of this…well, afraid and jumping fer joy, since you were, alive, and…er…" Hagrid coughed repeatedly, as if he were trying to break off his last sentence.

"But, I told yer that day in that there corridor exactly how I felt to this day," Hagrid smiled.

_If I ever gave yeh the means not to trust me…I'm sorry. And I hope yer can find it in yer heart to be my friend again. Maybe someday_... Yes, Mora remembered the words quite clearly, after a few moments of searching her thoughts. But what struck her the most was Hagrid's ability after all these years to recall every word of their last conversation together.

"We were all fooled by him, Mora. The entire school, everyone. But now…we know the truth…well, at least yer, me, Dumbledore, and a few others know."

"What?" Mora sighed hopelessly.

"Er," Hagrid moaned, trying to prepare himself of the outburst that was about to explode. He knew how Mora, well, the old Mora, would react to such news.

_She is the old Mora!_ Hagrid's mind screamed to him.

But after all these years, Hagrid still couldn't believe that the seventeen year-old Mora, the one he had befriended over thirty years ago, was now standing before him, not aged a bit.

Sure, she did look different. Dumbledore had been sure of that. Her hair was a different color, as were her eyes. But the moment Hagrid had seen her, curled up in the corner of the hospital wing, he had known it was her. She had the same sparkle behind her eyes, although now it was very faint, as if it were dying away.

Like this was all a dream.

_Dream or not, I better make this fast._

"It's just that, everyone still thinks Tom saved the school and that I'm the one who, ye' know…."

"WHAT!" Mora shrieked at the top of her lungs as she bounded to her feet. "What? They think that perfect little Tom saved the day and then randomly ran off and kept on kill-"

"No! No! Please, yer upsetting yerself, Mora…" Hagrid scampered anxiously, reaching to his feet. "That's not it. No one ever really found out that…that Tom's the one who became…..well, You-know-who."

"Voldemort," Mora finished as Hagrid flinched slightly at the name.

It still sounded so foreign in Mora's ears. _Voldemort_ It sounded like some cliché character in some cheesy novel that gets killed off in the third or fourth chapter. Too bad for her, it was real life.

Everything she had once known had been turned upside down, yet again.

"So that means…" Mora said softly, trying to regain some sense of composure, if that was even possible at this point. "That's you're still being blamed for it all. Aren't you?"

Hagrid looked away nervously before his soft eyes fell upon Mora yet again.

"It's not all that bad…" Hagrid started. "Dumbledore's got me a good job, games keeper of Hogwarts! I live at the school, right down there in there hut, yer see?" Hagrid said excitedly as he pointed towards the window.

"Plus, take a look at this," he said as he drew a rather large, pink umbrella out from his long coat. Mora eyed it suspiciously.

"Rubeus, what's…" But before she could even finish her statement, Hagrid pointed the tip of the umbrella at her bed. Suddenly, the sheets untangled themselves, swiftly making the bed back to its neat, natural form.

"Dumbledore found it fer me," Hagrid said happily. "Said he got if off of this man named Ashford down in Bulgaria. Nice fellow, really…"

"So, you can still do magic?" Mora asked curiously.

"A bit here and there," Hagrid explained.

"That's great, Rubeus," Mora comforted softly, still not easing up to the idea of Hagrid still being accused of the crime he didn't commit.

"About that Mora…" Hagrid began slowly, "The thing is, after….everything, no one really called me Rubeus anymore. Sort of like, starting off fresh again, new name, new…"

"I understand, Rubeus-I mean! Uh….wait," Mora said, cutting off her random rant. "What do you want me to call you them?"

"Everyone calls me Hagrid," he said sheepishly.

"Hagrid," Mora echoed softly, "I like it already." Sighing, Mora plopped back down onto the hospital bed. "So, where did you say you got that umbrella?"

"This fellow…what was his name…oh! Right, Ashford he was. Right, good man. He had…" Hagrid rambled on.

"Okay, okay! Ashford it is!" Mora laughed, throwing her arms into the air.

"Is what?" Hagrid asked.

"My new identity," Mora explained somewhat somberly, sarcasm thickly coating her words.

"Uh, I think that's not a girl name, Mora…" Hagrid interjected.

"No, my last name! Well, my _new_ one at least," Mora explained.

"Mora Ashford," Hagrid echoed. Suddenly, he extended his hand to Mora, who eyed it with a curious expression. "Well, Mora Ashford, I'm Hagrid."

Catching on, Mora grabbed Hagrid's hand, shaking politely. "Pleased to meet you, Hagrid," she smiled.

"I have a feeling this is the start of a beautiful friendship….."

"Well, first things first," Dumbledore sighed cheerfully, resting aside the lavish desk Dippet's-no, now Dumbledore's office. "Have you picked a suitable last name, or are we just going to have to assign you a rather dull one?"

Before you could respond, the soft clicking of a door and the loud thumping of feet rocked through the office, sounding the arrival of another. "Ah, Hagrid, glad to see you made it," Dumbledore smiled. Turning her head, Mora indeed saw Hagrid, making his way towards the Professor.

"Sorry I'm late, professor," Hagrid said immediately, shuffling the door closed.

"No need to apologize, Hagrid," Dumbledore said sympathetically. "Now, where were we…ah yes!" Dumbledore said as his focus was turned back to Mora. "You're choice of name."

"Yes professor, I've picked one," Mora smiled meekly. Mora opened her mouth to speak, but the words never had the chance to spill out.

"It's Ashford, headmaster," Hagrid jumped in eagerly, a wide smile creasing over his lips "after that fellow that…"

"Ah, I remember him, thank you Hagrid," Dumbledore said politely, amused by Hagrid's enthusiasm. He hadn't seen Hagrid this happy in a very long time.

"Well, then welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Ashford," Dumbledore retorted politely. "And now, there is another matter we must discuss."

_Of course, because you can't go a day in this school without more life altering news to shake up you're day_, Mora thought, reminiscing in the misery that all the other _matters_ had brought upon her.

"Because you are to be attending your seventh year here," he began, "I think it's about time we do something the right way…" with this, Dumbledore hurried over to a self, picking up what looked to be some sort of tattered cloth from one of the top shelves. As he came back to the desk, the item in his hand focused into view. It was an old, ratty looking hat.

_And this is doing things the right way, how?_

"When you first arrived here, Headmaster Dippet thought it was appropriate just to place you himself into one of the houses," Dumbledore explained. "However, that was a grave error on his part. Now, it is only fair that we have you sorted, the correct way."

"Pardon me, but what do you mean by _sorting_?" Mora asked timidly.

"How we decide what house you will be placed in, with this," he explained as he unraveled the hat. To Mora's astonishment, the hat had a large slit, almost resembling a human mouth….

"Yes headmaster?" a voice croaked, coming from the mouth looking slit in the hat. Surprised, Mora grasped the arms of the chair, as if she were hanging on for dear life. Dumbledore merely chuckled.

"I am quite sorry for the interruption of your little nap," Dumbledore apologized full heartily to the hat, "But we require your services."

"Ah, yes," the hat sighed, still hanging from Dumbledore's hand. "Where is this student?"

"She is right here," Dumbledore said.

_Wow, the headmaster having a conversation with a talking hat….nothing unusual there_.

Slowly, Dumbledore placed the hat, preaching it at the top of Mora's barely brushed mop of chestnut hair. Nervous and confused, Mora's posture became rigid, afraid that even the slightest movement and the hat may be thrown from her head.

'_Hm, and there were whispers that you had died_' a voice examined in Mora's head.

_I can...hear the hat? In my head_? Mora thought, not expecting an answer yet merely doing it as a way to reassure herself that she had simply lost it and was imagining this all.

_Yes. Now, do be quiet.'_ The hat ordered. Speechless, Mora did not press the matter, letting the sorting hat look through her mind.

'_Hmmm, looks as though Syltherin did not suit you,'_ the hat criticized, and uneasy feeling creeping inside Mora.

'_Ah, a Temparious…yes yes, that is quite impressive…_

'_I should have done this long ago…' _the hat concluded cryptically.

"Headmaster," the hat called out. Relieved that the hat wasn't talking inside her thoughts any more, Mora allowed herself to ease into the back of the chair slightly.

"I have reached the decision," the hat drawled. "This student is to be place in." At this point the hat took in a deep breath, only frustrating Mora further.

_Out with it already!_

"Gryffindor."

"YES!" Hagrid roared as he jumped to his feet. Turning to see him again, Mora watched as Hagrid's cheeks tinted with a slight touch of red. "Oh…sorry 'bout that…" he covered up quickly, still beaming with excitement.


	4. A Bit More Complicated

4. A Bit More Complicated

James Potter shuffled nervously down the corridor, leading up to the headmaster's office. Shoveling his hands into his pockets, James felt a sudden wave of nausea over take him.

Why was this all making him so nervous? So anxious that he would snap at any one who came a good ten feet in his direction?

James knew he had to tell Dumbledore. He just had to. If he didn't then something bad could happen. It would happen. Something bad would happen to that girl again.

_It was him! It was him! He killed them! …. TOM! He did it all!_

James felt his feet freeze beneath him, molding onto the newly cleaned stone floor. Who was this Tom the girl had talked about? Did he really hurt anyone, let alone kill some one? Could this random Tom been the one to leave the girl in the common room in such a terrible state?

_Why else would she be screaming about him you moron? He obviously hurt her! _

But now as James was in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, he had never heard anything about some one named Tom. Sure, it was a fairly common name, but nonetheless. It seemed as if no one even knew anything about a mystery Tom.

But what had really happened to that girl? The Syltherin one from the other night. She didn't just appear in the common room looking as if a herd of trolls had eaten her alive. Something, or some one had done that to her.

And this Tom fellow might just be him.

_But why should I get involved? Why should I care? For all I know this girl's just off her rocker._

Oh, but James had already tried asking this question today.

"Hey Evans!" James called cheerily to the redhead across the corridor, walking off in a huff trying to shake of the arrogant boy, yet again.

Lily moaned as she turned swiftly to face James dead on. "For the last time James, my answer is NO!"

James ruffled his fingers through his jet-black hair, not at all affected by the girl of his dreams's rage. "No, that's not it," he started. Drawing in a deep spurt of breath, James let the words tumble of his mouth, jumbled into an infinite nonsense.

"Look, I know this guy, who has this friend…a girl friend, but not _his_ girlfriend, but she was beat up the other day and she said something about her, uh…cousin having something to do with it, and my friend heard but no one else did. Should I-uh, my friend, tell anyone about this, or should he just mind his own business?"

Lily stared back blankly, blinking her almond shaped emerald eyes a few times. "So wait, your friend's friend got beat up, said her cousin did it, and your friend heard so your friend wants to know if he should tell anyone what he heard," Lily recited, much to James' amazement.

"Is that right?"

James looked back, shock overtaking his features. "Er…yeah. That pretty much sums it up."

"Well," Lily continued, starting to walk off in the other direction. James followed immediately, like a puppy jumping at the heels of its master. "I think it's your friends duty to tell some one what he heard. I mean, if…the cousin, really did do it, some action has to be taken against him."

"I guess you're right," James sighed, realizing there would be know easy way out for the situation. He…wait, his _friend_ had to tell someone.

"Thanks Lily," James sighed. Shrugging, the red head girl began to walk off in the direction. "Oh, Lily," James called after her. She spun around to face him again. "How about you and me -"

"No, Potter," Lily laughed. "Merlin, don't you ever get bored of this?"

"Not one bit," James said, flashing a grin.

"Don't you ever think I get bored of it?" she retorted.

"If you got bored then you'd just say yes," James replied slyly.

"You're impossible, James Potter."

"As are you, Lily Evans."

Shaking her head in laughter, Lily kept walking, leaving James yet again, rejected from his proposal to her, yet dreading what was to come when he told some one about what he heard, that is, if he even told someone.

To bad what James was about to do would be a bit more complicated then going to Lily with an anonymous _my friend_ song and dance.

Shaking his head, James was ready. Striding up to the goblin, James let out a rushed, "Liquorish snaps." Suddenly, the staircase behind the wall appeared. Huring up step after step (and nearly losing his footing a few time if I may add), James fell upon the headmaster's office, only to see Dumbledore sitting attentively at his desk, hands folded neatly on its surface.

"About time you came to see me, Mr. Potter."

"Y-you can't, no….there's no way you can actually be serious about any of this…" Was all James Potter managed to choke out after Dumbledore dropped the bomb he had been holding over his head since late last night.

"Oh, yes...I'm quite sure I was rather serious," Dumbledore said simply, almost amused by James' reaction to his explanation of the recent events set in motion in Hogwarts.

_Well what in Merlin's name did the man expect? After what he told me!_ James' mind screamed to him, the voice of reason ripping through his numb state.

No, no there was no way, no way in bloody hell that anything that the crazed headmaster had just said could even be remotely true. Had the old coot finally lost it completely? Did Dumbledore's old age get a hold of him and thrusted this senile state onto him? Sure, it was a stretch to blame that absolutely bizarre story on him simply being somewhat elderly, but what else could James think?

"Ever word I have told you today is true, James," Dumbledore said calmly. "You heard Mora say it herself, _Tom killed them all_…" he repeated.

That was the whole reason why James had came to Dumbledore in the first place. To tell him what he had heard, this girl's warning of a certain Tom. Well, that, and Lily had pretty much convinced him to that it was the _right_ thing to do. After he told Dumbledore, James assumed he'd simply be dismissed and Dumbledore would investigate the matter, and this Tom would be found and face whatever he had done.

But never in a million years had he expected to hear what he had just been told.

James never expected to hear of the biggest cover up in Hogwarts history. He never expected that this girl, this Mora, could possibly be the center of the very war tearing the wizarding world apart.

"Right, Professor, I heard her say _Tom_," James repeated, his fingers anxiously strumming against the arm of the chair he remained planted in for the past hour. "Not…" he started lowering his voice a bit, "you know… Lord Voldemort."

"James, everything I have told you is in fact the truth," Dumbledore repeated again, even though he could tell James wasn't buying it.

James rubbing his forehead feverishly. He felt nauseas, like a screwdriver was being rammed in his stomach repeatedly. None of it made sense! Nothing that came out of the senile wizard's mouth!

"Do you honestly want me to believe…" James laughed nervously, unaware of how to handle the situation, "that this girl somehow posses the ability to involuntarily travel through time, that she was a temp….teimpio…tempaca…temp something or other. That she somehow went back in time to the nineteen-forties, and somehow landed in Hogwarts with no memory of her life or anything? And then she and some Slytherin named Tom Riddle fell in love, and he ended up being a homicidal maniac? And her confronting him triggered her to _time travel_-thingie again into the Gryffindor common room almost thirty years later? Is _that_ it?"

Dumbledore blinked. "Why, yes. But I'm afraid it is a bit more complicated than that," he added solemnly.

"Oh yeah, that after she disappeared there everyone thought she was dead, which lead for Riddle to turn his back on love and become Voldemort!" James sputtered out. "No offense Professor, but that all seems a little too…"

"Unbelievable?" Dumbledore answered.

"No, I was thinking completely bonkers."

Dumbledore stifled back a chuckle. "Yes, I thought so too the first time I even questioned Mora being a Temparious. But I'm afraid it is true, and her appearance into Gryffindor house decades later, the same seventeen year old girl proves it. Mora is in fact a Temparious."

James sat silently, the shock still coursing through him. The headmaster said it all so simply, as if it wasn't the most insane and unrealistic load of nonsense he had ever heard. "Is it j-just me, or I am crazy to even think that this seems like a bit of a fabrication…" James rambled on.

"Yes, I admit, it does seem a bit _bonkers_, but unfortunately there is nothing we can do to change it," Dumbledore said. "And, seeing that you still do not believe me, there is only one thing that can convince you otherwise," he sighed as he stretched out of his seat and began to pace around the oval shaped area, James' eyes trailing after him.

"You say last evening one moment the common room was utterly empty, and the next a young woman appeared right in the middle of it, bloodied and bruised from head to toe. Is that correct?" Dumbledore questioned as he stroked his long white beard.

"Yes professor," James responded shortly.

"And, Mister Potter, are you aware that there is an anti apparition charm around the school and the grounds?"

"Yes, professor."

"So, this means it is impossible that this young woman could have apperated in. How peculiar is that?" the headmaster mused as he strode. "And, if you recall correctly, this young woman wore a Slytherin robe, one that students wear. Correct?"

"Yes."

"Yes, and if you recall, was this young woman of medium height, pale skin, blonde hair, and hazel eyes?"

"Yes sir…" James said somewhat unsure of himself, "But I only saw her eyes for a few seconds."

"Even though, you remember that they were hazel?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," James answered softly.

"Alright, so far we have a young woman appearing in the middle of the Gryffindor common room, bruised and bloodied beyond explanation, and she has a striking resemblance to Mora," Dumbledore recalled. "And then, she opens her eyes, her hazel eyes, and she speaks to you. Yes?"

"Yes…" James answered, only for his response to be quickly treaded over by Dumbledore.

"And first of all this young woman has no idea where she is, yet she recognizes that she is indeed in Hogwarts. Then she tells you and urgent message. That Tom had done something horrible, that he had killed. Is that what she told you before this young woman yet again began unconscious?"

"Yes."

"Well, Mister Potter. What you have told me is all fact. Physical evidence which you yourself have experience and examined," Dumbledore continued as he resumed his seat at his desk, his eyes staring into James' own. "Now, the rest of the story, however, you did not know. That information only lies with four others. Four who lived and took part in these events of the past. You know two to myself and the young woman."

"But there are two more?" James asked quickly.

"Yes. They would be Madame Garrah, who had been a member of the Hogwarts staff since that time. And our own games keeper, Mister Hagrid, who was a peer and a student at the same time as Mora," Dumbledore explained. "They too have been informed of Mora's condition."

"But professor," James began, shifting uncomfortably in his seat a bit. "If this is all, if she really is….why tell me any of this?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm glad you asked," he said, his eyes twinkling behind his half moon spectacles. "But first and foremost I must ask, do you believe me now, Mister Potter?" he asked.

It was a stretch yes, but what else was James supposed to do? Sure, Dumbledore could be a bit loopy at times, but in all due respect he was one of the greatest and most powerful sorcerers of the age. And while James could barley understand the implications of being a _tempari_ing person, or whatever it was called, he could tell that Dumbledore did. James trusted Dumbledore, respected him, admired him especially now during the war.

So, did James believe him?

"Yes professor, I do."

Well, wouldn't you?

"Good then, glad _that's_ out of the way," he said cheerfully. "So then, why did I tell you of this too? Well, unlike Dippet's mistake of choosing Mora's house for her, I thought it would be best to have her sorted if she is to complete her education here. And, a few hours ago, Miss Ashford was sorted into Gryffindor."

James arched one of his eyebrows curiously. Wait, this girl was meant for Gryffindor, but she spent her sixth year in Hogwarts as a Slytherin? _Wow, she must have felt out of place_….. James thought to himself.

"Now, while it is beneficial to Mora's health for Madame Garrah to know, for her own protection for me to know, neither of us can follow Mora to her classes, or in the Gryffindor tower…"

"So you want me to spy on her?"

"Oh, no…no not spy on her," Dumbledore said quickly, "No something much more important. Mora, while she knows the castle and the grounds of this school, she is very much alone here. She has just learned that she is indeed a Temparious, and she can barley understand the ability, as you barley understand it as well, Mister Potter. She too has just learned of what became of Tom, of Voldemort and the entire war. What Mora needs now is not to be judged, or shunned, or feared. She needs us, James. She needs you."

James looked back to Dumbledore, confusion over taking his eyes. "Me?"

Him? She needed James? What could James possibly do for this girl? She had been through more in the past few hours than James could possibly imagine. Finding out that someone she cared about, that someone she loved had killed and then to turn her back on him, only to be forced into an entirely new decade. Then to be told by someone else that everyone assumed she had died and the same boy she had once loved became the most dangerous and evil wizard of the century?

"Yes James, you," Dumbledore smiled. "She needs you to be there for her. You need to be a friend to her. She will need you James, more than you can imagine. No James, you are not to spy on her, or tell me or anyone else for the matter anything about Mora. No, you must protect her secret with your life, and you must protect her. Neither Voldemort nor any of his followers have the slightest idea that Mora is still living, and it is dire that we keep it that way."

"Professor, if they knew…..if they knew that she isn't dead, that she is a Temp-parious-ssis…would they try to kill her?" James asked.

"No James, his supporters would not kill her," Dumbledore said somberly. "No, they have no idea that before he assumed the title of Lord Voldemort his name was Tom Riddle. They do not know anything about Mora or her past.

"So would his followers kill her? No James. Voldemort would kill her himself."

"But why?" James asked suddenly. "What use would come from him killing her?"

"Mora represents many things to Voldemort," Dumbledore began. "His past, his life before he assumed power, and most importantly, his weakness."

"I'm afraid I don't understand, professor," James confessed softly. "How could she be his weakness? He's probably one of the most powerful homicidal maniacs ever to walk the earth, what can she do to stop him?"

Dumbledore took a long breath in as he readjusted his spectacles on his nose. "You see, James, love is a very powerful thing," Dumbledore said. "It can do many, many things to a person. I'm sure you know what it is like to fancy a person, don't you Mister Potter?"

James felt his face tinge slightly crimson. Did everyone in the entire bloody school know that James liked a certain red headed, gorgeous, fiery, amazingly brilliant Gryffindor? _Of course everyone knows you moron, you've been screaming it to the entire world since first year_! James' mind barked suddenly.

"You can understand, James, that rush of feelings you get when you see you're certain someone walk down the corridor," Dumbledore continued. "The sudden giddiness, the happiness, you feel like you're floating. You also suddenly feel nervous, what will you say to her, what you will do? What if you fall on your face in front of her, what if you embarrass yourself? Will you ever be able to look her in the eye again? Yes, James, you feel all these things and millions more when you see her walk by you."

James felt like smiling at that moment, but he couldn't. He knew things were about to take a sudden turn in Dumbledore's little talk on love. And sure enough, they did.

"But, for Voldemort everything is different. He remembered the way Mora clouded his vision whenever she was around. How when she was near, his dreams of purifying the wizarding race were no longer his priority. His love for Mora was stronger than his hatred.

"But then, after she _died_ that day, all he could remember was the pain. The pain from loosing her. And he used his grief to mold himself into the image of the Dark Lord. Now, when Voldemort thinks of love, all he can remember is the way Mora had changed him. The way she made him almost want to be good. How if she still were alive how she may have stopped his rise to power. His love for her had that sort of power over him, which today he sees simply as a weakness, and maybe even, by my speculation only, of course, that love is a threat to his empire.

"Voldemort will not give into his weakness, he will not give into love." Dumbledore finished.

James remained silent, transfixed by Dumbledore's words. _This all isn't a game, Potter. This is real_. He shuddered.

"Mora could possibly be Voldemort's greatest fear. If he ever learned of her existence, he would stop at nothing to destroy her…" Dumbledore paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts again. There was so much to tell, so much to examine of Voldemort. But how much could he tell James without confusing him even further?

"He claims to despise love, to spit upon in, when in reality he fears it. Yet the only thing he fears more than love itself is its power to destroy him."

"And he can see that through Mora," James said softly, trying to connect together what Dumbledore had told him in a way he could understand. "Because he loved Mora so much, he thinks it can break him. That through Mora it could….break him?"

"Yes, James, from the inside out," Dumbledore answered. James did not move, nor think, nor even breath for a few moments. All he could do was stare back at the aging headmaster.

Breaking the silence, Dumbledore once again rose from his seat, leaning against the side of his desk. "Yes, as I do recall, Mora was the exemplary witch here at Hogwarts, very bright, extremely talented... natural aptitude for Quidditch. There is much light in her, but now it seems as though that light is fading."

"Professor…." James started, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat instinctively, trying to stall for a few moments.

Was he really sure of what he was doing? Dumbledore had just thrown a massive story at him of this mysterious girl, and suddenly James felt compelled to help her. The threat was real, Dumbledore had made that perfectly clear. Voldemort would kill Mora. So what could James possibly do to help, he wasn't an auror or anything, he was pretty sure he couldn't take on Voldemort for a girl he hadn't even properly met. He couldn't even make a suitable diversion while this girl ran away from Voldemort. So what could James possibly do?

"I…..I'll do whatever I can."

"James," Dumbledore started again, his tone serious and his eyes boring through you. "Let me remind you that once you become involved in this matter, there is no turning back. Are you sure, Mister Potter, that this is the choice you wish to make?"

_There's no going back,_ James repeated to himself. Could he make a difference in Mora's favor? Dumbledore obviously thought so. Would simply being there for this girl despite the bizarre circumstances surrounding her really help?

And even if he could, was James willing to risk it?


	5. Meet the Marauders

5. Meet the Marauders

"Well, here we are….." James said nervously to the silent girl behind him as they reached the portrait. The Fat Lady in the painting flounced around, a rather unruly sight for any students passing by, especially James.

The Fat Lady looked down from her portrait, rolling her eyes once she noted James standing before her. "Oh it's you again, you little horror….."

"Nice to see you too, milady," James smiled cordially as the woman in the portrait scowled.

"This is the entrance?" Mora echoed, the new Gryffindor robes she wore feeling coarse over her skin. Mora glanced around the corridor nervously, not seeing any space for the doorway to Gryffindor Tower.

"Yes, there she is," James said as he pointed once again to the Fat Lady. "She loves me, she just doesn't like saying it…." The lady in the painting scowled at James' words.

Mora was taken back a bit, she new many strange things happened at Hogwarts, but how could the entrance to one of the houses be a painting? The one to Slytherin had just been a blank space of wall in the dungeons….

_You're not in Slytherin anymore! You're a Gryffindor now…._ Mora's mind screamed out to her.

How foreign that sounded to Mora. After an entire year spent in Slytherin, constantly having their values and their ideas shoveled down her throat since September, Mora was finally told she was meant for Gryffindor. Surely she could understand that she wasn't destined for Slytherin, Mora could always sense she never belonged with her old peers.

But Gryffindor? That house stood for bravery and chivalry and all of that, everything that Mora was not? When had she ever been brave? When had she ever done anything for herself? Her highlights from her sixth year added up to trying not to be locked in any classrooms with Eric, her amazing disappearing memory trick, and of course he break-up with Tom.

_NO! Don't think of him, don't bring him back into your thoughts, you'll only get hurt again!_ Mora thought. Why did her thoughts have to drift back to him again? Why couldn't she just squeeze Tom from her memory? She had been broken up with him for a good month and a half before the tempari, but even then it had been easier to go on with her everyday life without him.

_That was before you knew you were a Temparious…._ Mora reminded herself, for the twentieth time that day, _Before you knew that Tom became the darkest wizard of the age, before everything went wrong…._

"Mora?" James asked as the girl was suddenly pulled from her daze.

"I'm sorry, what?" she said softly.

"To get in you have to tell this lovely young woman the password," he went on as the Fat Lady crossed her arms stubbornly. "Which happens to be Frog Spawn Soap."

James chuckled as the Fat Lady mumbled something under her breath. _He seems so strange,_ Mora thought to herself as she studied the boy. She hadn't taken lightly to the idea of Dumbledore going behind her back and telling this boy absolutely everything about her life, including that she was the ex-girlfriend of the biggest threat of the year, as many would call him, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

And Mora did not also enjoy the fact that Dumbledore had assigned this James Potter to baby-sit her and go along with the story that she was, yet again, and new student and had been, yet again, home schooled. _After last year you'd think I could have a more exciting story…._ Mora pondered.

Yes, this James Potter was strange. He had awkwardly struggled to carry on conversation with Mora the entire way up to the seventh floor. Of course Mora knew he had judged her. How could he not? In the matter of hours of ever knowing she existed James learned ever strange detail of Mora's jump from nineteen forty-five to present day in a blink of an eye. Mora was certain he would run the moment she was out of his sight, but James surprised her. He stayed. Yes, he did seem strange…..maybe even kind?

Still muttering, the painting containing the Fat Lady swung open, revealing a large hole in the wall, revealing a narrow corridor. James turned back to you, his black hair askew, his glasses a bit uneven on his face. "You ready?" James asked.

Mora shrugged, taken aback by his benevolence. "As ready as I'll ever be," Mora choked out.

"Okay then," James said as he gestured to the entrance. "Let's get going…"

Mora nodded as she hurried behind James, the portrait snapping shut behind them the moment Mora had fully disappeared into the entrance. The two crawled through the dark corridor until they reached the end, suddenly submerged into the soft glow of the Gryffindor common room.

Mora felt a sense of awe flood through her as she looked around the Gryffindor house for the first time. The large fire place roared in the background as the sounds of cheery Gryffindors filled her ears. She had been so accustomed to the dark haze of the Slytherin common room, the blur of dark greens and blacks in the windowless dungeons the only thing she could ever really call home.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to the guys," James said as he lead Mora over to the corner of the room, a gaggle of seventh years sitting around the fire. Mora felt her pulse race as she followed James to his friends. Would James simply introduce her to his peers and then leave her alone in this chaos? Would they accept her? Or would they just be friendly to Mora because they pitied her for being _the new kid_.

"Guys," James started as he and Mora came before the five Gryffindors, three boys and two girls. "This is Mora Ashford. She's new this year…."

_So far so good….._ Mora thought to herself as the students smiled back up at her instead of the scowls she had received when she first met the Slytherins that autumn day in the Great Hall.

"Mora, this is everyone," James went on. "The ugly one in the back is Reamus…." He said, pointing to the boy in the back, a book perched on his lap as he sat in a crimson armchair. His neat chestnut hair contrasted greatly with the mess James was sporting.

"Thanks mate….." Reamus sighed as he closed his book, his warm brown eyes looking back to you. He seemed polite, a bit more refined than the others he was with.

"Over there is Peter and Sirius….." he announced as he gestured to the two boys on the sofa. The first boy, Peter, waved to Mora nervously with one of his pudgy hands, forcing a smile onto his face.

_Well, I guess I'm not the first cowardly Gryffindor…._ Mora thought as she waved back to him.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Ashford," said the second boy, Sirius as he rose from his seat and took Mora's hand, kissing the top of it. Mora blushed as she took back her hand uncomfortably.

The girl leaning on the arm chair rolled her brown eyes. "Sirius Black, you can't even go a minute without -"

"Without what, Emmeline Janet Taylor?" Sirius quirked.

"You know what!" she whined like a small child bickering with her younger siblings. "Sorry about him," Emmeline said as she turned back to you, "I'm Emmy. I'll be protecting you from this lot," she sighed as she shook Mora's hand.

"Umm….thank you?" Mora said unsurely.

"Trust me, you will thank her later," Peter said as Sirius ruffled the boy's tuff of hair, making Peter squeal in anguish.

"Now dear Wormtail," Sirius sighed as he slumped looked back to Mora. "No need to bad mouth a friend on Mora's first day…."

"Bad mouthing? More like warning," the last student sitting with the group moaned. She rose from where she had been seated on the ground, tossing her book to the side. Her fiery red hair set her off from the rest of the room as she came towards Mora, but not before swatting Sirius over the head first. "No one needs to deal with the Marauders at their height their first time meeting you lot…."

"The Marauders?" Mora echoed.

"All in due time," James jumped in . "All in due time…."

"I'm Lily," the redhead said as she shot James a questionable look. "I'm also Head Girl this year…."

"Ya know Lil, that doesn't sound that impressing anymore considering James got Head Boy….." Reamus added thoughtfully.

"Please, don't remind me…."

"Oh Lily, what could be better than being Head Girl than sharing your duties as Head Girl with me?" James soothed as he took a step closer, his arm wrapping around Lily's shoulders.

"Shoving my head in the oven and turning on the gas," Lily responded quickly as she shoved his hand away.

"Ah yes, young love….." Emmeline sighed. "They say it never lasts…."

"And pigs fly…." Lily muttered. "I'd be lucky if James' little dose of _love_ died just as quickly as -"

"Aww, you love me too, Miss Evans…." James smiled.

"And you have all successfully scared off the new girl on her first day," Reamus said as he noted Mora's expression.

"So where are you from, Mora?" Emmeline asked as she tried to make Mora feel welcome, unknowing that it was the worst question she could possibly ask.

_Where am I from….WHRE AM I FROM?_

And suddenly, a house popped into Mora's mind, as did the name of a small town she somehow knew. "Well my family moved around a lot…." Mora began as she heard a relieved sigh escape James. "But my favorite town was Chester Hills, its north of the city."

_Wow, how'd I come up with that?_ Mora thought as shock poured through her, but she masked her surprise away as some of the students nodded, even though Mora was sure they had no idea where the town was.

It was almost like Mora had another memory, the way it had just appeared in her head. She could see almost every aspect of the house, the light blue siding, the one small bathroom she and Ardien were forced to share, the rickety back door that no matter how many times her father attempted to mend, it always found a way to snap off the hinges.  
The very thought of the small house made Mora feel strange. It felt almost like _home_. 

"New girl, eh?" Sirius pondered to himself. "Isn't there some sort of initiation we can put her through?"

Mora's smile grew slightly as she recalled a certain number she played when she died four certain Slytherins' hair a rather flattering shade of Easter-egg pink.

"I know that look….Looks like the girl has an idea," James noted as Lily sighed, rolling her eyes in a matter that said I've-lost-another-one-to-this-lot.

"I wanna know! I wanna know!" Emmeline squealed.

"Nice to be reminded of how mature Em is with those lovely sounds…." Sirius grumbled as he rubbed his temples.

"Alright…." Mora said nervously as she scuttled beside Emmeline, whispering her plan into the girl's ear behind her mass of wavy brown hair.

"Well, looks like the boys have a little competition this year…." Emmeline said, a grin spreading from ear to ear. "Mind on letting me in on that?"

"Sure…." Mora said softly.

"Well, I'd be dammed if a bunch of girls showed us up this year, our last year to reek havoc over the school….." Sirius moaned. "I guess we'll just have to stop you ladies before it's too late…."

"Is that a challenge?" Lily questioned.

"And is _that_ the Lily Evans actually wanting in on a fit of immature pranking?" Peter asked suspiciously.

"I have my moments…."

"Then you're on," Sirius said. "Let's see if you girls have what it takes to go against the Marauders….."

"And that," James said as a million different thought crossed Mora's mind. "Dear Mora, is the Marauders."


	6. After Hour Encounters

6. After Hour Encounters

The light fog of the night hovered over the grounds of Hogwarts as Mora hurried towards the small cabin, her heart racing in her chest. Rain began to pour over the school, the occasional crash of thunder quickening Mora's pace. It was past hours, and Mora knew breaking curfew wasn't the greatest way to give a first impression. Her feet pounded faster and faster over the damp grass as she reached the hut. Wrapping her cloak even tighter around her, Mora knocked her hand against the extremely tall door.

"Who's ou' there?" a gruff voice asked from inside.

"Hagrid!" Mora called. "It's me! Let me in!"

Mora heard the scuttle of bolts on the door unlocking before Hagrid pulled the door open, revealing a very soaked Mora standing on the doorstep. "Well get in 'ere before yer catch a cold!" Hagrid said hastily as Mora hurried into the hut.

"Sit, sit…." He motioned to a wooden chair by the table. Mora sat as he placed a steaming mug of something resembling tea before her, the mug double the size of an ordinary cup. Mora said her thanks to Hagrid before taking a sip.

"What are yer doing out at this 'our of night?" Hagrid scolded. "It's past curfew, if yer get caught -"

"I'm not going to get caught," Mora smiled as she placed the mug back onto the table with a small thud.

"Well, one day with those Gryffindors and already yer starting to sound like um," Hagrid said happily. "I suppose you've meet those friends o' James' by now, them Marauders?"

"Now why does everyone in this place know what a _Marauder_ is except for me?" Mora sighed annoyingly.

"Mora, it's not _a_ marauder, it's _the_ Marauders…."

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," Mora sighed. "What are _the_ Marauders?"

"The Marauders," Hagrid began as he took as seat beside Mora, "Are the biggest group o' troublemakers this school ever seen. Fresh of the train those four 'ave been at it with their pranks….."

"But Hagrid, who exactly are Marauders?"

"We'll, yer've met James," Hagrid went on. "And then there's Reamus and Peter, and Sirius. Yup, they every perfessor here crazy by the time their down, those four. Like the other day, they got Filch -"

"Filch is still here?" Mora jumped in, amazed that the seemingly crazed man would still be alive, let alone in Hogwarts.

"Oh yeah, been around even longer than me, he 'as!" Hagrid exclaimed happily.

"It's strange the way some things don't change," Mora said softly. She looked back to Hagrid, who seemed to be staring off at her absent mindedly. "Erm…..Hagrid?"

Hagrid blinked, his eyes refocusing as he looked back to Mora. "Oh right, sorry…" he muttered. "It's still just so…bizarre. Seeing yer here again….."

Mora took a deep breath in, realizing what Hagrid had on his mind. "Oh…" She said softly.

"It's jest, I never really had best friend, and then I met you…." He began, blushing slightly. "And then you were gone, and I was here fer years without yer, and after a while I had accepted it…and now yer back. After all those years….."

"But for me, it's only been three days….." Mora said. "Three days ago I was in my sixth year, in Slytherin, Dippet was headmaster and T-" Mora stopped herself, seeing Hagrid flinch slightly just as she were to mention Tom. "And now I wake up and everything I've ever known gets pulled out from under me…"

_In the blink of an eye, everything changed…_ Mora thought solemnly to herself. After everything she had been told, all the years that had gone by without her, Mora had to try so hard today to build up a new look for her. As she met her new classmates she had to be Mora Ashford, no longer Mora Cartea. It was as if Mora Cartea really had died that day in the lavatory…

_Everyone has believed it for over thirty years, and if you want to live to see tomorrow you'll believe it too!_ she screamed to herself. Mora had been given this one chance to go on with her life, but did that mean she had to forget about her old one? Did she have to push everything she had ever known away just so she could keep going?

Mora took deep breath in as she looked back to her old friend. "Honestly Hagrid, if you weren't here today, I don't know if I could get through this all….."

"Me too, Mora, me too…." Hagrid smiled. "So anyways, tell me 'bout those Gryffindors James introduced yer to."

"Well," Mora started, recalling the faces she had seen for the first time. "There was Peter, short stout boy…."

Hagrid chuckled. "Yes, Pettigrew…..jumpy one 'e is."

"And there was, what was his name…..Rodger? No, no that wasn't it…..Ralph? No…."

"Yer talking about Reamus Lupin?"

"Yes, yes that was the name…." Mora reassured as she remembered James introducing him

"Best be learnin' their names, Mora. If yer going to be living with um for the year….."

"Hey! I've only met them a few hours ago, give me a break here."

"Alright, alright…."

"There was also a Lily….." Mora went on.

Hagrid chuckled at recognition of the name. "Potter 'as been chasing that Lily Evans for years now…she's said no every time he asks her, poor fellow refuses to give up…."

"Really?" Mora asked, curiosity rising inside her. "Years? I could tell he fancied her off the bat, but seemed like she couldn't stand him…."

"Right she don't…." Hagrid laughed. "But nothing can discourage that James Potter, nothing. Yer know he'd keep chasing her till he dropped dead."

"Well, then he likes her a bit further than fancying her…." Mora said. _I wonder what it would take to push those too together…_

"Who else then?" Hagrid asked.

"Right, there was another girl, Emmeline," Mora remembered. "She seemed…friendly."

"Emmeline, she and Lily 'ave been attached at the hip since first year, they have…." Hagrid explained.

Mora groaned inwardly as she recalled another pair of clicky girls. _If they're anything like Jades and Cassidy were I swear I'll hex them here and now….._ she thought.

"Some of the nicest girl's at this school too," Hagrid added. "Yer'd be right to be with them this year."

"I doubt I'll be _with anyone_, Hagrid," Mora sighed. "I'm just the strange new girl without a family or any friends, again. I was quick to _make friends_ last time in Slytherin and look who I buddied up with….."

"But that was different!" Hagrid jumped in quickly. He paused for a second, before looking back to you. "Mora, what was the first thing yer thought when yer met the housemates in Gryffindors?"

"I thought….." Mora started, recalling the foreboding feeling she had gotten when she first met the students. "I thought they were all friendly…..it was strange…."

"Why was it strange?" Hagrid asked curiously.

"I dunno…" Mora said quickly before she could even think about the question for a moment. "I guess I wasn't expecting them to be kind."

"Why not?"

"Honestly Hagrid, how many genuinely good people have I met since I've gotten here?" Mora said rashly. "You, Dumbledore, maybe Madame Garrah even though I don't really know her…but the point is, I don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to friends, I mean, for Merlin's sake! I'm the bloody cast off of a mass murderer!"

"You-know-who fooled us all, Mora," Hagrid soothed, although he avoided using the name Tom had fashioned for himself. "There are good people 'ere, Mora. Yer just have to give them a chance."

Mora sighed deeply. "Maybe….."

The sound of two obscure chimes echoed through Hagrid's hut, making Mora jump slightly out of her chair. "Merlin, Mora it's two in the morning!" Hagrid said hastily. "If yer go now maybe you'll make it without anyone seeing yer…."

"Hagrid, I told you already," Mora smiled as she rose from her seat and refastened her robe. "No one's going to catch me."

"Do yer even remember how to get inter the common room?" Hagrid moaned.

"Sure, it's on the sixth floor," Mora said as she headed for the door, "Or the fifth…..well one of those…."

Hagrid sighed as he rose from his seat. "Seventh floor, Mora…..portrait of the Fat Lady, don't ferget!"

"Take care Hagrid!" Mora said as she gave him a warm hug before departing into the storm.

"Not this one…..or that one…" Mora moaned softly as she scuttled down the corridor, examining painting to painting. She had been down at least a dozen hallways now she had been sure the entrance stood, and now she wasn't even sure she was in Hogwarts at this point.

_You'd think after living here an entire school year I'd have the slightest clue of where I was going…..guess I was wrong….._ Mora groaned inwardly as she scuttled down another flight of steps. _Probably shouldn't be go down stairs if the entrance is on the sixth floor…..or was it the seventh? Fifth? Oh Merlin, I'm never getting out of here…_

Mora hurried into the corridor as she gazed out the adjacent window. _How'd I end up on the ground floor?_ She awed at herself. What if Mora really couldn't find Gryffindor Tower? What if she ended up wandering the corridors until morning, or worse, until she got caught? Mora's pace turned into a run as her once calm composure turned into fret. Before Mora had the chance to react, she run straight into something and was knocked to the groaned. Moaning, she sat up.

_Wait…..what was that? Who was that?_ Mora thought to herself as he gazed around, the corridor completely abandoned.

"Oh hell….." Mora heard a voice mumbled nervously.

Mora spun around, still unaware of where the sound was coming from. Preventing herself from breaking down right there in the hallway, Mora stopped her frantic movements, still sitting on the cold corridor ground.

Suddenly she saw a boy appear before her out of thin air, as if he had been standing there the entire time. Mora recognized the person standing before her as he scoped up a loose cloak on the ground.

"You okay down there?" Sirius asked.

Sirius strode silently down the vacant corridor, gobbling down the last cookie he had sweet talked the house elves into giving him. He loved late night visits to the kitchen, those house elves had everything stocked down there. And the best part was; they had absolutely no shame in serving any kind on _adult beverage_ to students, most importantly firewhiskey which happened to be an all time favorite of his.

Sirius turned to corner quickly as he pulled out the treasured Marauders Map. He unfolded it quickly in his hands, relieved to see the nearest patrolling teacher was McGonagall, and she unknowingly went off in the other direction than him. Sirius smiled as he stuffed the map back into his pocket, not knowing it wasn't shoved down far enough. Sighing, his eyes drifted off the window, noticing the rain had heightened in the past hour.

For some reason Sirius hadn't been able to get a wink of sleep that night. The moment even the slightest hint of drowsiness could come over him he felt something pull him out of his daze. It could have been the storm ragging outside, or maybe the not-so-dulcet tones of Peter's snores. Or even the strange foreboding feeling in the air. The unrecognizable apprehension floating in the dormitory that only he could feel. The feeling that something had begun that kept him awake, events that were bound to take place…..

_It's just the storm, Black…._ Sirius told himself over and over again. _The storm, and nothing more._

Even so, Sirius for whatever reason could not sleep. So what else a student to do but sneak out after hours? It was what Sirius Black lived for, and would live for until the end of term this year. After he graduated his seventh year, there would be no more need to break out his friend's invisibly cloak every night or amusing pranking sprees with his closest friends. After he graduated Sirius had no idea where he was to go. There was no going back to his family, not after all that had been said earlier that summer.

But what was Sirius meant to do? All of his friends had some idea of the path they wanted to take once they all left Hogwarts, but why was Sirius the only one who hadn't the slightest clue? Did he really not know what kind of life to pursue? Or was he just not ready to give up everything he had known for the past seven years….

Sirius felt himself collide with a blunt object, sending him clamoring back a few feet. He felt increasingly foolish for staring off into space for so long as Sirius regained his balance. His eyes fell to the other end of the impact, the girl he had run into knocked straight to the floor.

Sirius' eyes readjusted to the dark corridor as he recognized the face of the girl. "Oh hell….." Sirius muttered, still shielded by the invisibility cloak. Mora looked around feverishly, trying to identify the source of the sound.

Mora Ashford, the new kid. How odd it was for a new student to transfer in a good month and a half into the school year. Sirius had only spoken to her for a few minutes, only seen her for maybe two, three hours. Mora seemed unusually shy, timid like when she was introduced to everyone. _Not so Gryffindor like…_ Sirius thought to himself. _Eh, I'd be a little scared too being shoved into a room with six of the wackiest people in the whole bloody school_…..

Who knows what her first impression of the seventh years had been. If Sirius could guess, he'd say Mora assumed Peter was a bit of a weasel, Reamus the more serious type, Emmeline having the maturity of a two year old brat, Lily much more refined book worm, James the nutty kid so not ready to go out into the real world, and then Sirius, the good looking one. _Oh please, that's what you need everyone to think_ Sirius mused.

Was it such a crime Sirius got to be the good looking one in the group? Some people definitely thought so. Emmeline wanted to be the living daylights out of him whenever Sirius dealt with girls his own way. She called it, as Sirius recalled _immature and pathetic, _and she also went on to say _one of these girls is going to punch you in the mouth one day for being such a tramp_.

_Alright, alright, so maybe I can come on a little strong….._Sirius reasoned to himself. He honestly couldn't tell what the new girl had thought of him. It was immensely hard to read her. Her bright blue eyes were brilliant in color, but something behind them didn't quite seem to be there. She had fair skin and long brown curls that fell below her shoulders. Her delicate features drew Sirius' full attention so quickly it seemed as though he could never turn away. Mora Ashford was gorgeous to say the least.

_And you know what happens when Sirius Black finds a girl to be gorgeous…_

Sirius slid the cloak off himself, revealing his presence in the corridor to the rattled Mora. James' cloak fell to a heap on the floor, as did the map he had been clinging to. "You okay down there?" he asked as Mora's breathing calmed slightly.

"Just peachy," she murmured as Sirius outstretched a hand to her. Graciously she took it as Sirius helped her up. Before he could brake hands with her Sirius had pulled her dangerously close to him, the gesture quite innocently actually. They stood there for a few moments, Sirius obviously enjoying their closeness. Even up close, he could tell, she was absolutely stunning.

Mora backed away quickly, dropping Sirius' hand as if it were covered in the plague. _Cautious one she is….._Sirius thought to himself.

"Thanks," she said.

"What are you doing up and about the castle this late anyway?" Sirius asked curiously. "And your first night here, seems as though you were lost as well….."

"I just….I...went for a walk…" Mora explained. "You're right, not the smartest thing to do when I have no idea how to get back to Gryffindor tower." Slowly, Mora spotted something on the floor, spotting the Marauders map that had slipped out of Sirius' pocket. She bent over and took the map into her hands, eyeing it inquiringly.

"What is this?" she asked curiously as she saw it showed Hogwarts, as well as the two of their names side by side.

"This," Sirius started, his smile growing wider. "Is a map I myself put a hand in creating. It shows all of Hogwarts, and everyone one in it."

"Really?" Mora mused, showing she was at least slightly impressed. _She's impressed alright_… Sirius thought to himself as Mora handed the map back to him.

"Here we are now….." Sirius went on as he pointed out the two names on the map stationary in one of the ground floor corridors. "See? Sirius Black and Mora…Mora _Cartea_?"

Mora's face dropped completely as she felt her pulse begin to race. She'd been here less than a day and already her cover had been blown, and by none other than a cocky student shamelessly flirting with her at the dead of night. He had no idea what was going on, obviously, but someone would. The very mention of that name in this castle could be deadly, and it was a risk Mora could not take under any circumstances.

"What's _Cartea_?" he asked as he showed the map to Mora.

_A mistake, mother's maiden name, a typo, ANYTHING!_ Mora thought to herself feverishly. _Just say something already! Make something up!_

"Sirius?" Mora heard a voice whisper down the corridor. Mora and Sirius spun around to see another figure approaching them, his head boy badge nearly falling off his robes from lack of care for the thing.

"Mora?" James asked as he came before the two. "What are you guys doing down here?"

"Got hungry," Sirius confessed shrugging.

"You and your stomach," James said. "Only you could still be hungry after you ate four servings of chicken for dinner….."

"What can I say? I'm a growing boy," Sirius smiled. "And I just so happened to bump into Miss Ashford on my way back…._literally_."

James' eyes shifted back to Mora, an all knowing look bearing at her. "I just went out for some air….." Mora confessed. "And I just…..sort of….got myself completely and hopelessly lost."

James smiled. "You two are lucky I'm Head Boy. If anyone else had caught you while they were patrolling, you'd both be -"

"Totally screwed?" Sirius chimed in.

"Precisely."


	7. Old Wounds and New Faces

7. Old Wounds and New Faces

"Settle down now," the transfiguration professor demanded of her students. The seventh years' chirpings dimmed away until the last whisper had been silenced. "Now," McGonagall continued, "We have a new student joining our class today, Miss Mora Ashford."

Mora stood awkwardly in front of the class, feeling the eyes of her new peers piercing through her. The array of students looked vaguely familiar to those she had been accustomed with in her sixth year here. Although the students from the forties were a bit more refined, less out-there-for-the-world-to-see. These students she stood before seemed as if they didn't give a care in the world and never held anything back.

"Right, Mora…..you can take a seat next too," McGonagall said as she scanned the room before falling on a half vacant desk. "Yes….. next to Mister Bayard."

Mora felt a sudden rush of terror course through her. _No, no, no!_ Mora's mind barked at her. _There's no way. No way she told you to sit next with Eric. He's got to be in his forties by now. Of course she didn't tell me….._

Mora's eyes loomed to the desk the professor was pointing to, landing on the other occupant of the desk. The same sandy blonde hair, except much darker than she had remember. A more slender face. The familiar honey brown eyes bearing back at her. The same, cocky smile plastered over his face. Like a clone of him, right down to the Slytherin crest he proudly bore on his robes. Whoever this Bayard was, he must have been some how related to Eric.

Not needing to be told twice, Mora quickly shuffled over to the desk, slowly placing her books onto the desk soundlessly. Slowly, she sat in the vacant seat, feeling the young Bayard's eyes burning through her. _Just stay calm, Mora…._ Mora reminded herself as her pulse raced. _He's not the same person, it's not Eric, it's not Eric it's not Er-_

"I'm Bayard," he said suddenly, shattering away Mora's silent panic. Mora looked back to him, his eyes sending chills through her body. "Colton Bayard." A sly look painted over his face, the same look Mora remembered.

"Mora Ashford…." she mumbled quickly.

"You may know my father," the boy, Colton, drawled on as McGonagall went on with her lesson, oblivious to the conversation being carried on in the back of her classroom. "You know, he's very high in the ministry…."

"I can't say that I do," Mora sputtered out quickly, hoping Colton would drop his attempts at this little chat. Colton arched an eyebrow. _Oh yeah, this kid's definitely a Bayard_... Mora thought.

"You can't be serious," he snipped arrogantly. "You've never heard of Eric Bayard?"

Mora felt the air in her lungs shrivel up inside of her. So it was true. Here Mora was, sitting next to Eric's son. His very own flesh and blood right beside her, once again a bit too close for comfort.

Of course Mora Cartea remembered Eric Bayard.

_"You know Mora," he whispered into her ear, "This would have to be much worse if I didn't fancy you so much." With this, he roughly grabbed Mora, thrusting underneath him. "Now I like this position much better," he slurred._

"_Get off me, you pig!" Mora roared, feeling utter terror growing inside her. She had never seen such a look submerge Eric's eyes. It was dangerous, chilling, like his eyes were knives digging deeper and deeper through Mora, piercing her skin. _

_Eric laughed sourly. "Not a chance my dear." Eric could see the fear dancing inside Mora's hazel eyes. Twisted pleasure growing inside him, Eric's lips claimed Mora's in a rough, intense kiss. The second he pulled away, Eric began tearing away at Mora's dress, revealing her under garments. Throwing shards of the golden dress across the hallway, Mora screamed and dangerous, frantic scream. Some one had to hear her, they couldn't just leave her here with him. Anyone, just anyone! Pining her by the wrist on the ground, Eric kissed Mora once again, muffling away her screams. _

Mora tried to block away the harsh memory quickly, the same sense of terror rising inside her. She could still hear her screams echoing down the corridor that night, up until Tom had come and saved her.

Mora Cartea knew Eric Bayard.

Mora Ashford however…..

"Recall it vaguely."

"Oh, I see…." Colton said as his nose shriveled up as he turned his eyes away. "Hard to believe they let _another_ piece of mudblood filth into this school…..course with Dumbledore running it into the dirt it can be expected….."

Instinctively, Mora snatched up her wand, raising it up to Colton's neck. Fire flared inside her eyes. "Who are you calling mudblood? How dare you! Just because I'm not falling at your prissy little feet does not mean I'm one of _those_."

Colton eyed her peculiarly for a moment, before a smirk came across his face. "Well, well well," he said, pleased with himself. "I've seemed to have stricken a nerve. Perhaps you would be happier in Slytherin, Miss Ashford."

Mora dropped her arm away quickly, her wand hitting the desk with a soft thud. Could she have really said all those things? Had those horrible, sick words really come from her own mouth?

Perhaps her year in Slytherin had taken a deeper toll on Mora than she was willing to believe. It was living in a world were slurs on heritage was a daily routine, and _who you were_ was all that mattered. You were the people you were connected to, your family, your friends. Everything in your life was how close to the top you could scammer to, and there were always people willing to knock you straight down on their way up.

And it seemed to more people you stomped into the ground on your way, the better.

Of course, Mora had never thought of herself that way when she was _one of them_, or least pretending to be. She had always felt uncomfortable when she heard her peers go off about muggle borns and those not of the "elite" race. She refused to join in on any Slytherin attempts to make another students life miserable for pure enjoyment. And when the attacks on students became rampant, and each day another peer could be found petrified in another corner of the castle, Mora was mortified and afraid. While the rest of the house was actually celebrating and relishing in the tragedy.

Mora had never truly fit that mold. Her best friend was a half giant, some one who defiantly would never be accepted by those in the coveted pure blood court. Not once did Mora ever see herself superior to any one else, on the contrary she never really saw herself as worthy of anything.

No, she never once thought of herself as one of _them_. They were cold and dark. They selfish, only looking out for themselves, only fueling themselves further and further ahead. They were different than Mora.

But how much?

"I shouldn't have said that," Mora whispered to herself.

"Now, there's nothing wrong with defending yourself," Colton drawled. "I'm sure if someone had insulted myself in such a way I would have reacted much worse."

Mora's eyes snapped up to him. "My apologies again," he added smugly.

Mora looked away quickly. _And now he thinks I'm some stuffy pureblood princess who hates the rest of humanity_ she thought bitterly.

Mora knew she was a pureblood. But that alone did not make her just like Colton Bayard.

There were many things that a pureblood could be if they did not live up to the expectations. The most typical, a _blood traitor_.

_Hell, I'm a blood traitor if anyone has ever seen one..._ Mora decided. She was in Gryffindor now, with people of all different backgrounds, not the generic Slytherin mold. People who weren't as closed minded and unaccepting. People who had been nothing but kind to her.

And she would try damn hard to be accepted by them, and never lift a finger to have a single Slytherin to even look her way.

But as her words had proved, it was true and clear that Slytherin had affected her. Their ideology would always sleep in the back of her mind, no matter what she could tell herself. They had left their mark on Mora Cartea.

"I have a feeling we're going to get along famously," Colton snickered.

Mora looked back to him, her eyes burning into his own. Apparently he wasn't prepared for her reaction. "I don't think so," she spat out.

"Class is dismissed," McGonagall called from the front of the classroom.

And in a blink of an eye, Mora Ashford had swept up all of her belongings and dashed from the room. She charged out of the door, leaving the strangling Potter boy chasing after her. All while the rest of the class slowly rose from their seats, some stretching after an abnormally slow class, others scribbling down the length home work assignment the professor demanded her students slave over.

Colton leaned back in his seat, chuckling to himself. No, this new girl was nothing like what he had expected. She had gone from being the silent shadow of a girl into a fierce, determined witch. How odd it was, one moment Colton thought he saw a bumbling mudblood, and the next it was all to clear she was a pureblood, through and through. And now, Colton had no idea who this girl could be.

_She's probably more confused than I am..._ he thought to himself. He had never seen a person so conflicted, all in the short time he had seen her. From those minutes he could tell she did not know who she wanted to be, if she wanted to run around with her Gryffindor pals to the grave, or if she was truly worthy of the court.

Colton was sure he had never heard of the Ashford family before in his life. Obviously that meant they had no standing what so ever in the social society. But he could see potential in Mora to do very well, and through his own family ties Colton knew he could give that little shove along the way.

But at this point, Colton couldn't tell if Mora would see things the right way, or _their_ way. To fight, or to hide. To florish, or fade away. Live or die.

To be great, or to be a blood traitor.

_Perhaps a little persuasion could make up her mind_...

"Cole," a voice from beside him beckonded. Colton snapped his head to see his good friend standing before his desk impatiently, obviously annoyed by Colton's day dreaming. "Today?"

"All right, Severus, don't get you kinckers in a twist," Colton sighed as he rose from the desk, slumping his book bag over his shoulder.

But first thing was first. Colton needed to know exactly who this Mora Ashford was.


	8. Surprise, Surprise

8. Surprise, Surprise

Mora trudged heavily into the dormitory, for the seventh day trying to avoid social interaction with anyone. This was all still too much for Mora, pretending to be an average, every day student at Hogwarts. Like her life had little to no complication, like she was the perfectly happy school girl. When in reality every time Mora walked down a familiar corridor, or stepped into a classroom she remembered so vividly from before, she felt sick.

Sighing, she threw her bookbag at the foot of her bed, not caring that half the contents spilled to the floor. Mora wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this charade up. Half the day could be spent on the verge of tears, the other half cursing everything that had happened.

_It will just take time,_ Dumbledore had told her, _before it gets easier for you_.

Time, that was an understatement. At this rate Mora wouldn't be all to surprised if she flung herself off the top of Gryffindor tower tomorrow. The frustration, the anger, the exhaustion, the grief, the pain, now it was becoming all too much for Mora to bear silently.

But what else was Mora to do? She had no one she could turn to about any of this, no one here that could possibly understand what she was going through. Dumbledore knew everything, but no matter how much Mora felt she could trust the headmaster, she was not ready to confide anything in him. And then there was Hagrid, and in the seven days she had only spoken to him twice. The first time turned out to be a much more pleasant visit than the second.

"Hagrid!" Mora called anxiously as she pounded on the door to his hut vigorously. This night on the grounds was eerily silent, and Mora wanted to spend as little time out alone as possible. This day had been frustrating enough.

Mora could hear loud shuffling from inside the hut before Hagrid pulled open the door. "Mora, get in 'ere then," he said quickly, somewhat startled by the visit. Mora hurried inside as Hagrid ushered her over to a seat at the table.

"So," Mora began through gritted teeth, "when was anyone going to warn me that I would be going to school with Eric Bayard's bloody clone!"

Hagrid obviously had not been expecting for this to come up at the moment. Mora watched as Hagrid's mouth formed a perfect "o." And the only thing that could be going through his mind was _uh-oh._

_Oh he knew, he knew and he didn't care to say two words to me about it!_ Mora thought angrily.

"I guess yer met Colton..." Hagrid said nervously.

Mora crossed her arms. "Unfortunately." Mora motioned for Hagrid to go on, to somehow explain this new Bayard popping up in this new twisted reality.

"He is Eric's son," Hagrid said awkwardly.

"I figured," Mora snipped. "Is the mother any one I might remember?" Of course Mora was expecting it to be someone absolutely cliché, like Jades.

"Er..." Hagrid stammered. "A girl from yer year back then. Cassidy Wilkes."

Mora sat up instantly at the sound of the name. "Cass? And...Eric?"

The thought of it was so unreal. Mora's vision of Cassidy from their sixth year always seemed constant. Bubbly, obnoxious little Cassy whose mind was always filled with trolls and her figure. She always held the appearance of being a sweet person, to Mora at least. But Mora knew otherwise. Mora knew there was no trusting Cassidy Wilkes.

But she never expected Cassidy to marry Eric. She absolutely loathed Eric for everything he had done to Mora. And then the moment Mora disappear did Cassidy simply regain her happy disposition? Did everything that happen erase itself from her memory because it was convenient? Mora had always known Cassidy to be selfish, but _this_...

"Their parents fixed 'em up ter get married," Hagrid clarified easily. "Right when they got out 'o Hogwarts."

"Anymore little Bayards I should watch out for?" Mora asked stiffly.

"Two others, older, so no more 'ere in Hogwarts, just the one left. She-" Hagrid stopped himself, not wanting to go on.

"What is it, Hagrid?" Mora asked as she sense his hesitation. "Just tell me, whatever it is."

Hagrid took a deep breath in, "Cassidy died, after she gave birth ter Colton."

Mora felt her breath get caught in her throat. She was not expecting to hear something like that. There really was no grief, no sadness, just surprise at the distant news. "Oh," was all Mora managed to say.

"And Eric is in the ministry now?" she went on.

"'E's got some high profile position," Hagrid said quickly. "Mora?" he said, noticing her sudden dazed look. "Are ye' alright?"

Mora tried to turn her attention back to Hagrid. But she didn't dare move her eyes from the same barren spot on the table, still trapped in her own thoughts.

"It's strange, whenever I used to think of Eric I would always feel..." she whispered as she smoother her hand across the surface of the table back and forth. "The fear...pain... it was like I was reliving the humiliation. The gut wrenching humiliation. But now, there's-" Mora stopped for a moment, her hand stopping dead on the surface of the table.

"Nothing." Mora lifted her hand slightly, eyeing two splinters now prickled in her fingertip. "Except the anger. There are no more tears, no...no more tears over it all. But it's the anger that I don't think I'll ever get past."

"No one said you ever had to forgive Eric, Mora," Hagrid said softly.

Mora sighed deeply before looking back to Hagrid. "I know," she said. "It will just be a lot bloody harder to move on with little Bayard around."

"Jest try to avoid him, and if that little bugger does bother yer, I'll take care of him," Hagrid beamed.

There was always that shimmer to Hagrid. That heartiness that helped Mora forget her problems, her life, even only for a little while. He made it seem so easy for Mora to let go of the past and move on. If only moving on really could be that simple. Like shedding an outer shell and simply abandon it. Why was it that Mora couldn't abandon the memories all the same?

Mora smiled. "Thanks Hagrid."

"Anytime."

"Just avoid him," Mora recited just as Hagrid had said. "Just...avoid."

_Avoid eh? I'd rather smash his smug little face into the dirt..._

She had only known him for two days, yet Mora could tell, this Colton Bayard was going to be trouble. He was as haughty and self absorbed as his father had been. Just from the way he acted, Mora knew he was exactly like his father. They looked exactly the same, they walked alike, spoke identically, and were both treated as superior. And it was clear Colton had always been treated that way. He had always been the little prince who had every wish fulfilled, got every little thing his heart desired.

She knew Colton not once in his life had excepted no for an answer, and he wouldn't until the day he died.

Just like Eric.

Just like how Eric refused to settle for anything at all. That the only thing that ever mattered in Eric's life was himself. Was it the same now? Or did raising a child in some way change Eric?

_Eric, change? Please,_ Mora thought instantly. But, Mora could admit that time held a much stronger influence than she was willing to believe. Take Tom for example. A few decades older, Mora could guess that he would be nothing but cold. Tom would be isolated, he would never let anyone else in.

But did Mora ever really know Tom at all? The last time she ever saw him, he was a blood thirsty monster. He was so foreign to Mora, like the man she loved never truly existed.

_Because he didn't! _Mora's mind screamed. _The Tom in the lavatory was the real him_.

Mora plopped down onto her bed, burring her face in the soft pillow. She couldn't think about all of this now, she wouldn't dare think anymore of him. All Tom was now to her was a painful memory. And that was all Mora wanted him to remain.

That was all Tom Riddle was to anyone these days. A memory.


	9. Transfiguration, Trees, and Terror

9. Transfiguration, Trees, and Terror

"Where the bloody hell could that little vermin run off to?"

Emmeline huffed her way further down the corridor, leaving Mora trailing closely behind. "Honestly," Emmeline went on, pumping her arms to the rhythm of their pace. "You'd think a rudy mouse wouldn't be so hard to catch..."

Not exactly how Mora thought the day's transfiguration class would turn out. The assignment had just been to transform a simple garden rat into a quill - according to McGonagall, _a basic exercise to tighten up your skills_. If it had been so basic, then why was Mora now left scavenging across the castle searching for the rodent?

_Oh right._ Mora's mind answered. _Because the professor was not at all pleased when the two of you caused a ruckus in her classroom when you lost grip of the beast_. And now if Emmeline and Mora couldn't return it to the woman before the end of the day, she'd fail them for the assignment, plain and simple. _Oh, and to make it worse, she took our bloody wands!_

The search dragged on for nearly an hour, but for Mora it felt like ages had crept by as the ran across every inch of Hogwarts. Through the girls' frustration, the somehow managed to wind up on the ground floor of the castle, and the rat was nowhere in sight.

"Perfect..." Mora groaned.

"It has to be here somewhere," Emmeline mumbled. "Unless someone's cat has already gotten hold of it... better it than me, I'd rip that thing to pieces -"

As Emmeline ranted on how she would go about torturing the creature, Mora smiled. Emmeline Taylor certainly was not the kind of girl she could dislike. Her fierce temper and tough shell shone through to those how never truly knew Emmeline. And, granted, Mora had only met the girl a few weeks prior, but she could tell the outer appearance was not at all the true Emmeline. She was an incredibly warm person, which Mora found nearly startling at first. But now, more and more each day Mora allowed herself to open up little but more to the girl.

Mora sighed. She so desperately wanted to regain some idea of normality at the time she had left at Hogwarts. To have friends to laugh with, to go to Hogsmede on the weekends, to only have cares about heavy homework in every class. But something still held Mora back, something inside her that simple wouldn't let her go. It made Mora wonder if she could ever be truly happy again.

And in her short moment of grief, Mora watched from the corner of her eye as a fury flash hurried around the corner.

"There!" Mora shouted, pointing to where the rat had escaped to. Emmeline charged in the direction. A lone squeak of pure terror eluded the rat as it scurried away. Mora raced after the blood hungry Emmeline, turning a corner and nearly losing her balance in the process.

"GET BACK HERE!" Emmeline roared as the rodent sped up. "Get back here so I can kill you with my own bare hands!"

The rat's jolted out the door on the side of the corridor, escaping to the outdoors. Impulsively the girls' chased after it, ignoring how ridiculous they looked to the students passing by.

_One way to make people think you're perfectly normal, Mora _thought as she ran down a steep hill, _chase a crazed vengeful Taylor and a pesky rat in the middle of the day like a loon_. Not after long the rat had lead the Gryffindors far across the campus. Mora was left completely out of breath, gasping as her pace slowed up. Emmeline, however, more determined than ever stampeded further and further away, getting closer and closer to the escapee.

And then, strangely, the rat stopped. Dead in the middle of the grass, like it was hypnotized by something. Taking no time at all to even wonder why it had stopped, Emmeline snatched up the rodent, holding it menacingly by tail and dangling it midair. "GOTCHA!" Emmeline cried in triumph. Mora still remained a few meters behind, trudging along to reach the Gryffindor.

And then, just as the rat had, Mora stopped. She saw just what made that rat freeze. And she too felt the blood within her veins freeze, the hairs on her neck stand up. Never before in her life had she ever seen anything like it, and she stood there amazed and terrified without any idea of what it was.

Emmeline beamed, her prisoner in her clutches, straight beneath and enormous tree. But it was not the size that startled Mora or the rat. No, they were frightened of the fact that the tree was alive. It's giant branches extended into dozens of arms, swirling around. Vines too that encompassed the tree sprang to life, whipping around rapidly. And apparently, Emmeline's unknowing presence of the danger of this tree made Mora's heart leap into her throat.

"EMMELINE WATCH OUT!" Mora shouted as loud as she could, her cry ripping through her exhausted lungs.

Before she could even blink, a crack roared over the grounds as a branch of the mighty tree struck the ground, inches away from where Emmeline stood. She crashed to the ground, the rat knocked straight out of her hands. Another vine of the tree ripped through the air, aimed straight at Emmeline. Without any hesitation, she leapt away just before the vine make a harsh collision with the ground.

Unable to watch any more, Mora raced as fast as her legs could carry her towards the tree, determined to do whatever she could to get Emmeline away from this danger. Her legs pumped harder and harder as Mora watched Emmeline dodge more attacks from the killer tree. Mora had seen so many unimaginable things in Hogwarts, but never did she suspect in the middle of the grounds she would encounter something quite like _this_.

As Mora drew closer to her fellow Gryffindor's aid, Emmeline was knocked to the ground by another vine. Emmeline dug her nails into the dirt below her, trying with everything she possessed to claw her way free. The tree began to drag her closer and closer to it's base.

"Emmeline!" Mora called as she rounded towards the tree. With one extremely fierce kick, Emmeline managed to shake the branch away. Emmeline raised to her feet, only to feel her right knee give out beneath her. Despite her many attempts through her growing panic, she could not stand back to her feet. Another branch reared above Emmeline's head, ready to crash down upon her.

Mora knew what she had to do. Gearing together all of her strength, Mora charged towards her. She had no time to think any of this through, and if she didn't take action know, all would be lost for Emmeline Using both of her arms she shoved Emmeline out of the way. Mora fell to the ground as Emmeline tumbled a few good meters away, landing on her stomach.

Knowing she would have no time to escape this fate, Mora raised her arms over her head, hoping to feebly protect herself from the terrible blow she was about to receive.

But it never came.

Mora did not move her arms. She hadn't felt the collision, but it surely had happened. Her eyes remained clenched closed, far too terrified to watch as she was ripped to pieces by a crazed living tree. Moments passed, and Mora grew curious. Was that it? Had it happened without her even knowing it?

"Mora!" a voice cracked from further away.

"Am I dead yet?" Mora cried out, still huddled on the ground.

"Not quite..." the voice answered, who Mora identified to be that of Emmeline.

Cautiously, Mora lowered her arms to her side. Squinting her eyes open, she could not believe what she was witnessing. The massive branch had frozen in midair, mere feet before her huddled frame. Mora straightened up slightly, and immediately the branch soared back to its original position. Every vine swiveled back onto the tree, each branch rose back to the sky, the roots dug back into the ground.

There was no way to describe what had just taken place. It was like the second Mora pushed Emmeline out of the way, the tree had simply given up, surrender it's first motive to crush them to bits. Mora felt shock coarse through her body. Why would this force of nature spare her? How could Mora ever know why the giant willow somehow changed its mind?

And without even looking for it, Mora found her answer. There, right next to where her left foot lie. It was a moderate sized stone plaque, at the very base of the tree. It had become overcome by dirt and stray vines, yet Mora could still make out the words etched into its enchanted surface.

_**In loving memory of Mora Cartea**_

_**A friend to all**_

_**1928 - 1945**_

Mora felt the unexpected sting of tears well inside her eyes. The willow had not harmed her because in some strange twist of fate, it had been made her gravestone, it had unexplainably known who she was, or what she was. It had been appointed as a place to remember Mora Cartea, but it appeared to be simply a place to let her memory decay.

"Mora! Are you alright?" Emmeline asked hurriedly as she ran to Mora's side. She heaved her up in one quick motion, before pulling her into an extremely strong embrace. Mora could feel the blood leave her arms as Emmeline's grip tightened tremendously. "You saved my life! Are you bloody crazy? That thing could have killed you like that!" Emmeline stammered on.

"I'm fine," Mora choked out as she pulled away from Emmeline. She wiped her eyes quickly, wanting to wash away the tears she had shed. "Let's just get out of here before-"

Without needing to say another word, Emmeline pulled Mora away, and they picked up at a fast pace. Emmeline just as easily would have dragged her away at a sprint, if it hadn't had been for a certain banged up knee.

"So much for catching that rat, eh?" Mora laughed unexpectedly.

"Well, actually..." Emmeline said coyly. Grinning, she pulled her hand from behind her back, revealing the rodent once again held captive in her dangerous grip. "Got that little sucker just before we bolted."

Looking down at the rat, Mora felt strange. After all, it had been this pest's fault they had nearly been killed by a rampaging tree. Naturally Mora thought she would want to crush the meddling creature to death. Yet, all Mora could do was laugh. Laugh, not at the small rat, not at Emmeline, or herself, or McGonagall. Mora had no idea what she found so funny. She just laughed and laughed harder and harder as the two strode into the castle, dirtied and dishelmed, hair askew, dirt and mud from head to toe, and both laughing harder than Mora had in a very long time.


	10. Beginnings of War

10. Beginnings of War

The brisk autumn breeze tugged at Mora's hair, annoyingly plucking strand from strand out of her loose pony tail. Sighing through her frustration, Mora pulled a few wisps of her brown locks behind her ear. Regaining her grip on her charms book, she quickened her pace across the grounds that mid Wednesday afternoon. Mora had only one class left for the day, and simply she couldn't be more relieved. All she wanted to do now was to sleep for days and days until somehow school ended.

Flocks of students littered the grounds that day, some lazily lounging on the grass, others studding on benches, a few hurrying to their classes. And of course, there were those few who without a doubt were cutting all of their afternoon classes, and took their free time to harass their peers.

And of course, this _lovely_ group of students were none other than Colton Bayard and his gaggle of Slytherin goons.

Yes, from the moment Mora set eyes on the next young Bayard, she knew the two would not get along. And she had been dead on. Their unbearably long transfiguration classes were spent together in bickering, constant agitation and for Mora, sheer utter pain. From the short time she had known him, Mora hated Colton. A loathing she fueled with every fiber of her being. Not just because of his personality, haughty attitude, or any piece of trash that came out of Colton's mouth.

But Mora held so much more against him. For everything Colton Bayard stood for. The superiority that wizards of his standing held themselves to, how they could not rest until everyone they did not seem to be good enough was put right into their place, or even lower. Who took sport in causing others hardship, feeding off the pain they inflicted. To Mora, Colton Bayard was everyone and everything that killed Mora inside. Everyone that made her life unbearable. It was because of them that Mora was in hiding. It was because of them that she lived in fear. It was because of them that her family had been executed one by one, and she stood next for the chopping block.

Mora blamed it all on who ever she found fit to bear the title, and Colton Bayard fit the role perfectly. It all fell upon his shoulders in Mora's eyes. She blamed him more than probably was fair of her.

_Fair? _Mora scoffed to herself. _Who said any of this was fair? Who said any of this miserable mess that became my life be remotely close to fair!_ Mora had learned that now. This world she lived in was survival of the fittest, and there was nothing more to it.

Her eyes drifted back to the gang of misfits, her glare fixated upon the scene a few meters away. Bayard sat perched atop a bench, flaying a book atop a young Ravenclaw boy's head. The first year grasped midair for the book, but each time he came close to catching it, Colton pulled it tauntingly further up it the air. Bored of this child's play, Colton raised his wand to the book, and in a few short moments the pages caught flame. He tossed the text over his shoulder, the ember flames spreading onto the lawn dangerously. Squealing, the Ravenclaw was able to extinguish the fire before anyone could be harmed, however his treasured book perished.

To his right, stood a straggly boy, Tate Avery, who sickeningly to Mora, was nephew to Korbin Avery. Their resemblance struck Mora immediately, the same stormy eyes, the same harsh jaw. Tate however reminded Mora nothing of the older Avery she once knew. He was much more attentive, not at all nonchalant like his uncle.

On the other side of Colton in the soft grass lounged Evan Rosier. His sleek auburn hair reminded Mora of one giant grease ball, with so many holding spells placed on it not even a tornado could draw a single hair out of position. Mora found the boy to be absolutely ridiculous, and hoped his vanity would someday come back to bite him right in his arse.

Lastly there was Severus Snape. Now Snape puzzled Mora the most. His appearance always sent a shiver down her spine. Harsh, black eyes, long hooked nose, his shards of raven black hair. Severus was a very secretive person to what Mora could tell. He called Colton his best mate, yet Mora could tell simply by looking at the two, Colton knew hardly anything about his friend. Severus Snape looked nothing more than another cold, harsh face, yet another to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. Yet a foreboding feeling in Mora made her doubt that assumption as well.

Mora continued on her way, although her pace slowed noticeably. The four Slytherins for a moments looked as if they were contented with their last plot of annoyance. Yet a passing student caught Bayard's eye, and too Mora's horror, it was a fellow Gryffindor.

Smirking, Colton bounded from his seat, trailing the unsuspecting student. "Oh looney looney Lupin!" he called sourly.

Reamus heard the call of his name, along with Colton's barrette, as he walked further over the grounds. Shaking his head, Reamus continued to hurry away, wanting to avoid any confrontation.

"Now Lupin, you know that's rude, don't you?" Colton went on as his Slytherin friends followed him, cackling behind him. "Didn't your mudblood father teach you any manners?"

This aroused a hearty round of laughter. Mora felt her fingers clench into fists as she stopped dead in her tracks. Her veins prickled with anger as she glared at the scene. Reamus to halted in his place. He refused to let anyone trash his father's name, so Mora had heard. Reamus more than anyone Mora had ever met would do anything to fight intolerance. But today, a brawl was the last thing Reamus had time for. He knew Colton Bayard for what he really was; a spineless shell of a fool. He could hide behind his big words and grand ideas, yet Reamus knew Bayard would never live up to any of it.

So, that day, Reamus decided it was wise to keep walking, and ignore Bayard's immature taunting and the hollows of his buddies. Yet Bayard had a different idea.

"Apparently not," Bayard sneered as Reamus kept walking away. "Now, now Reamus, don't you want to have a little fun?"

"_Diffiindo_!" Evan snickered, his wand pointed towards Reamus. A slicing sound raked the air as Reamus' robes shredded to pieces.

Reamus halted, examining his tattered robes in disgust. He spun around, facing the Slytherins with fire burning through his eyes. "You finished yet, Bayard?" Reamus spat out. "Because some of us want to get on with our lives here."

The Slytherins laughed. "Oh c'mon Lupin, why would we want to do that?" Tate smirked.

"Reducto!" Severus cried. Reamus leapt away in fright as a large hole in the ground exploded into tiny pieces of dust, inches away from Reamus' foot. "Reducto! Reducto!"

_I can't just stand here and watch this..._ Mora thought to herself. Silently, she hurried towards the circle of students, trying to keep her presence a secret.

"Reducto!" Bayard shouted, another spell shooting from his wand. "C'mon! Dance for us Lupin!"

Again Reamus jumped away from the danger as the Slytherins continued to miss their target and blast holes in the ground. Losing his footing, Reamus toppled over, crashing to the ground.

"Looks like our little twinkle toes lost his step," Tate snickered as the foursome circled around the fallen Reamus.

_Enough is enough!_

"_Incarcerous!_" Mora shouted. Ropes slithered from her wand, imprisoning Avery in a blink of an eye. Tate fell to the ground, withering against his restraints. The other Slytherins turned to see Mora, their faces laced with shock at the girl's sudden attack. Before they could raise their wands against her, Mora struck again.

"Rictumsempra!" Mora cried out, her wand pointed straight for Severus' throat. Before he could react, the jet of light struck him dead on. Snape yelped out in an uncontrollable fit of laugher. His hollows echoed across the grounds as he fell to his knees, giggling and squealing like a young child on Christmas morning.

"Petrificus totalus!" Evan yelled angirly as the charm shot from his own wand.

"EXPELIARMES!" Mora yelled as she dodged Evan's attack. Her spell met it's target, but it seemed to be a bit to strong and ended up sending him spiraling into the base of a nearby tree.

Mora held her wand erect, however there were no more spells being fired towards her. All three Slytherins were sprawled out in their own defeat. _Wait, three? Who-Where's Bayard_! Mora panicked.

Mora spun around, yet it was too late. "Expelliarmes!" Colton triumphed as Mora's wand flew straight out of her hand, landing yards away.

_Way to go Mora, you're now defenseless after beating all of Bayard's friends to a pulp...this is not going to be pretty_.

"Now Mora," Colton spat out. "You always seem to be poking your nose into other people's business..."

"What can I say? I tend to rub people the wrong way," Mora snapped back.

"Could be very dangerous one day," Colton said, his wand raised as he drew closer to Mora. "You need to be careful, Mora, that is...if you don't want to end up like-"

"I think I can take care of myself, Bayard," Mora sneered. "I seemed to hold my own against all your little friends here, now didn't I?"

"You know, when someone finds themselves defenseless, usually they don't tend to let their mouth run," Colton smirked. "But you've never been one to do what is expected, now are you Miss Ashford?"

Mora took another long stride, coming daringly close to Colton. "I think it's time you stop underestimating me, Bayard."

"Or what?"

"Or else you'll live to regret it."

"Regret it, eh?" Colton smeared, his honey eyes burning into Mora's own. No one ever dared to say something to bold to Colton, especially not some Gryffindor girl. He couldn't, he simply wouldn't stand for this, not until he put Mora into her place, until he smacked reality back into her.

How dare this Mora dare him this way. Him! A Bayard. Someone with standing, money, power, everything this simple girl couldn't even dream of. What made her think for even a moment that she could speak to him this way?

Yes, Mora Ashford was bold. Too bold for her own good. And Colton would be sure to extinguish this little flame that seemed to sting at him in annoyance. Dim that fire before it burst into anything serious.

Without warning, Colton grabbed hold of Mora's wrist, dragging her into a collision with him. Furring raising inside her, Mora looked back to Colton in disgust. Using all of her strength she fought against Colton. Yet each time she tried to pull away from him, Colton's grip tightened, his fingers bearing into her skin.

In Colton's eyes Mora watched as something overtook him, something she had seen those weeks ago. She remembered it all to well, the memory of his glare haunting her dreams. It was the same, crazed look that held Eric captive. His eyes engulfed a darkness every time he threatened her, looked at her, and when he attacked her.

And now, Eric's son held the same, menacing look. And for the first time in over a month, Mora felt true terror rise inside of her.

"When I'm through with you, you'll learn something about regret," Colton hissed as Mora winced in pain. This seemed to fuel Colton's fierce anger further. "I'll make sure you'll remember how to treat me -"

"Stupefy!"

Before Mora could process what was happening, a red jet of lit flew before her eyes, escaping straight into Colton's shocked features. He fell to the ground, his eyes snapping shut in an instant.

"Mora..."

Mora spun around quickly, smiling at the sight of a very dishelmed Reamus. His robes had been completely destroyed, just shards of tattered cloth draped over him in a seemingly random fashion. His hair looked upturned, his face covered in dirt. He stored his wand safely back in his pants pocket as he hurried over to Mora.

Mora smiled as the scruffy looking Reamus joined her. Just as they shared this moment did Mora notice the prying eyes of onlookers, who just happened to be spying at the fight that had ensued.

"C'mon now! Show's over!" She shouted as she shooed the students. "GET! Go back to whatever lives you lot have!" Slowly and grudgefully their peers dispersed.

"Are you alright-" But Reamus stopped himself immediately once he caught sight of Mora's wrist. It had only been a few moments, yet Reamus could see the purple marks begin to form around her petite wrist. The bruises deeply contrasted with her pale skin, making it ridiculously hard to miss.

"Bloody hell..." Reamus mumbled. As his arms extended. Slowly, he gently took hold of Mora's arm, examining the wounds. What made Mora think Reamus had any idea what he was doing was beyond her, yet she still trusted him. "You should probably go to the hospit-"

"NO!" Mora cried. The hospital wing just had to be Mora's least favorite place on the earth at this point. She had spent more hours than she could count locked away in that prison, if she every set foot in those dammed stark white halls again she'd surely drop dead. "I...just want to get out of here."

Reamus nodded, accepting Mora's justification with no questions asked. "Well," Reamus sighed, handing Mora her own wand. "I have to say that was one hell of a duel. I'm impressed."

"Nah," Mora smiled. "I couldn't just let those goons beat you too a pulp."

"Ouch," Reamus laughed. "At least I can block spells a bit better then some people..." he joked as Mora poked him annoyingly in the shoulder

"Well, I guess together we make at least one good dueler," Mora said.

"Then, we'll just have to stick together," Reamus added thoughtfully.


	11. Journey to the Past

11. Journey to the Past

"Mora!" a voice beckoned as a knock sounded on the door of the dormitory. "You in there?"

"Just a second!" she called back. Quickly Mora rolled up the sleeve of her uniform shirt, revealing the bruises she felt ashamed of. The marks had darkened, and the swelling had made its way around her wrist. Mora winced at the sight of it, reminding her of what Colton had said to her.

_When I'm through with you, you'll learn something about regret..._

Those words echoed through Mora's head, never letting her forget that familiar chill in his features, what laid behind his eyes. What could he mean by that? Could Colton try to do something to hurt her? To _teach her a lesson_ as he suggested? Of course, Reamus and the other's had assured her all Bayard could do was threaten and make promises of grandness, but in the end, it turned to nothing.

Still Mora did not feel safe. Despite what the Gryffindors told to in an attempt to calm her down, Mora knew much more than they could imagine. She set something off in Eric, something deep. And once it had been done, there was no way to go back. For some reason Mora had changed Eric for the worst. Eric Bayard before that September was arrogant, self absorbed, and simply a jerk. But whatever happened to Eric when he set eyes on Mora, she never understood. Yet somehow he emerged a shell of a person. A violent, crazed, maniac. And Mora would never know what had become of Eric Bayard, except for his short lived marriage and his brat of a son.

But if Mora triggered such a horrible change in Eric, could she do the same to Colton?

Brushing away the horrible thoughts, Mora re-bandaged her wrist hastily. She then tugged her sleeve back to its original place. _Now it's like it's not even there..._ Mora thought to herself as she looked down to her arm. _Except for the bulge in the shirt, oh Merlin_... Well, as long as Mora refused to go to the Hospital wing, she couldn't do any better than this.

"Mora?"

Mora jumped off her bed, her heart racing. She hadn't known he simply let himself in.

"Sorry about that..." James apologized quickly, "Just wanted to be sure you didn't fall out a window or something."

"Hey! I'm just a little bit off schedule," Mora defended as she shoved her books into her weathered bag.

"A bit?" James laughed back. "At this rate we won't get down there to breakfast until July!"

"So, you miss one meal, " Mora shrugged as the headed out the door together. "It'll do you some good."

"Are you calling me _fat_?" James accused, mock hurt swelling in his voice. "And I thought these pants looked good on me..."

James sourly examined his figure as Mora laughed. James smiled as the two went on, emerging into the vacant common room. The rest of the house were far gone that late October morning, giving the Gryffindor tower an eerie silence, and unsettling calm. It was a big contrast compared to the constant chaos the tower housed.

_Nice to see her laugh every once in a while..._ James thought to himself. It was true Mora spent her first weeks her in her own solitude, hardly saying a word to him or anyone else for that matter. But now she seemed to settle into everything here at Hogwarts. Slowly, but surely, James watched as Mora shone a bit brighter each day. She was on a very friendly basis with most of James' friends, and especially close with Reamus and Emmeline. Mora was making friends, and finally, she started to loosen up a bit. Mora finally looked happy.

Just as Dumbledore had expressed, James strived to gain Mora's trust. And, he was almost positive that he had. Although despite his efforts, James could never truly tell what Mora was thinking, what ideas lurked behind her quiet facade. And strangely to James, he fully trusted her as well. Of course James hoped the two of them would become friends, but he never expected this bond they shared. It was a strange, different kind of friendship, that went deeper than words.

But still, there was so much Mora couldn't say to James, to anyone, especially herself. She wasn't ready to face her past, what her past had become. James accepted that, yet he still did not understand how deep into this dark secret he would sink.

"James?" Mora cried out. There was something wrong with her voice, Mora sounded like she was in pain, her tone weakened. James spun around to see Mora clutching her forehead, leaned up against the closet wall for support.

"Mora, what's going -" But he was too late. Her eyes fell shut as Mora collapsed. Acting quickly, James caught her before she crashed to the ground. James felt panic well up inside him as he cradled the unconscious girl. What had just happened? One minute she seemed perfectly fine, walking and talking. And now, she looked near death.

Without thinking, James hurried over to the sofa, gently placing her down on it's surface. He had no idea what could be wrong with her, no clue what to do either.

"Get a grip Potter!" James scolded himself. _You need to go get help!_ His mind barked at him. Instinctively, James rushed to the port hole with full intention of running until he found anybody who would know what to do. "Go get help, get help..." he recited.

And suddenly, he heard something he was not expecting. "James?" Mora's voice cracked. James spun around, feeling a sigh of relief exploding from within him.

There she sat, looking, well...not exactly peachy, but much better. Mora looked pale, very pale. It seemed as though she couldn't sit up straight, and a small line of blood trickled from her temple. Mora held her hand up to the spot, trying to ease away whatever pain she was in.

"Mora!" he cried as he ran up to her side. "Are you alright? What happened? Is it, are you -"

Mora held out her hand, signaling for James to finish his brigade of questions. She didn't seem phased at all. "How long was I out?" she asked softly.

"About a minute," James answered. "One minute you were fine, and the next you..." Mora chuckled, taking James by surprise. "Not to be harsh or anything, but you seem to be reacting a bit to well..."

"Sorry, but this is practically a weekly occurrence at this point," Mora replied simply as she sighed. "This one wasn't bad at all..."

"Not bad?" James echoed before bounding up. "Not bad? Are you crazy! I thought you died for a second there? Not bad! For Merlin's sake -"

"Take it easy there!" Mora said. "James, I'm alright."

"You sure?"

"Well, besides this mind splitting headache and," Mora drew her hand away from her head for a moment, the droplets of crimson catching her eye. "This cut or whatever it is, I'm fine."

"And, _this_, has happened before?" James asked as he sat back down.

"Quite a lot actually," Mora responded honestly.

"Mora..." James started, "What exactly just happened?"

Mora sighed as she leaned forward, gaining a bit more strength. "Dumbledore must have explained this to you..." she said quickly before turning her eyes back to James. "Remember when Dumbledore told you I hardly know anything about my life before I...before I wound up in Hogwarts in nineteen forty-five?"

James nodded. He felt his stomach turn slightly, whether it was from nerves or just from his lack of food this dreary morning. Mora had never spoken a word to James about this part of her. The part that seemed to rule her inside. What had happened to her, her curse of being a Temparious, and overall, her life in Slytherin. And hearing her now, James wasn't sure if he was ready for any of it.

"Well, that was a little taste of me having a memory."

Mora leaned back further into the plush couch as she watched James' expression. He clearly had no idea how to handle this situation at all. It was a delightful change to Mora, from always having Tom's _explain it, tell Dippet, and forget it_ attitude for her bursts of memory. It was nice to see someone have no way to take charge of the situation, to control it, to ignore it.

"A memory?" James echoed as Mora nodded in response. Still, how could Mora go about explaining this to him? He never experienced anything like this, he knew hardly anything about Mora's past, why should she tell him anything at all?

_Because he's the only person here you've got,_ Mora's mind reminded her.

So, she had made it this far without revealing any of these things, why should she change that now?

_You know it won't ever be that simple_, Mora thought to herself. _This is part of your life. There's nothing you can do, expect hide it. Isn't it easier to stop covering for it, to at least one person?_

It was true, Mora grown accustomed to shielding away any signs of her abnormality. But how much longer could she keep up the charade without anyone catching on? And how could she go one without losing it without consoling in someone?

_I can trust him_, Mora thought to herself, _I know I can._

"Usually they're much worse," Mora said thoughtfully. "I used to be out for hours, and once a few days."

James' jaw dropped. _Clearly he expects me to fall into a coma any second now..._Mora thought to herself. "James, trust me, I'm fine!"

"Yeah, yeah, you are," James recited looking back to her, his hazel eyes laced with worry "Me, on the other hand..."

Mora laughed, and then quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry," she said after dropping her hand.

"No, it is funny," James smiled. "Look, it's James Potter, the crazed over bearing mum who has a heart attack whenever one of her twenty kids falls and scraps a knee."

"Well, even though I can assure you, you're certainly not the motherly type," Mora said. "It's nice that you care. Believe me, I'm alright. Just a bit shaken up is all."

"Good," James responded. "Because if anything _serious_ were to happen, I might have to jump off this bloody tower."

_He's a good guy,_ Mora thought to herself. _A good friend_. She successfully assured him there was nothing to worry about. Yet deep down Mora knew James was still afraid. Afraid Mora wasn't being entirely honest with him, afraid that she sugar coated this condition.

"Mora?" James asked as Mora's attention jumped back into reality. "If you don't mind me asking...what is it that you saw?"

Mora smiled. For once, she hadn't had a horrible, gruesome memory. There was no death, no murders or running. No forests blazed in a deadly fire or a missing portkey, no Death Eaters, nothing that would even suggest they were such a constant factor in her unpredictable life.

"Just me, and my dad," she started as her eyes lost focus. "I was, about eleven I guess. It was late August, and we were just...talking. About, well nothing really. But he was helping me pack, for something... It was the day before I left for school -" Mora stopped herself. "School...it was somewhere in France, I remember now..."

James blinked. "Wait, can you even speak _French_?"

"Je suppose ainsi, cela est pourquoi je pourrais aller à l'école là?" Mora said quickly before clamping her hand over her mouth.

"You speak French!" James said excitedly. "You remembered an entire language in a minute!"

Mora nodded slowly, still not believing it herself. "And that was it. There was a name, a name of the school...but I just can't remember it."

Mora shook her head. How the bloody hell could she speak French when she was eleven years old? It was just another mystery to her forgotten life, to this person without a past. For some reason remarkably unusual traits, strange quirks and unexplainable events were a daily occurrence before Mora arrived at Hogwarts, and Mora knew deep down it was something she would just have to accept.


	12. Straying From the Path

12. Straying From the Path

The sound of leaves crunching under dozens of feet cascaded across the grounds that Saturday morning. Liberated from the imprisonment of the school uniform, nearly every student third year and up poured out from the castle, ready to invade Hogsmede village for a few hours of pure freedom. The students trudged their way down the path, winding closer and closer to the small bustling town.

"Hurry up you guys!" Sirius shouted a few meters behind him.

"Oh quit whining! We'll get there when we get there!" Lily snapped back as she, Mora, and Lily trailed the others, smiling and giggling as they trudged along.

Mora was quite shocked how kind the girls had been to her. They had been so close, and Mora assumed that meant they would do whatever necessary to keep Mora away from their friendship _Just like Jades and Cassidy..._

Emmeline and Mora grew close quickly, after their encounter with a certain homicidal shrub. But Lily seemed much more hesitant towards Mora. She seemed to suspect something of her, seemed less open to accept her. At first Mora thought Lily somehow broken her lies, found out who she truly was.

Yet, in a strange twist, Emmeline confided to Mora what Lily really believed. Lily Evans was jealous, something the girl was certainly not known for. Lily became wary of Mora, since the young Miss Ashford seemed to steal away some of the attention from a certain _annoying twit_ in her own words, James Potter.

Despite how much Lily complained of James' persistent presence, his undying affection for her, the never ending attempts to prove himself for her, secretly Mora knew the thick shell of Lily Evan's exterior towards James surely began to chip away. Thankfully, Lily finally could see the relationship between James and Mora was purely platonic. To Mora, James was like a second brother, from what she could remember, he mirrored Ardien in many ways, not just their undying love of Quidditch and a strange lavender allergy.

"The village isn't about to get up and leave without you," Mora sighed, "You can spare a few minutes so we don't have to sprint the entire way there."

"So you lot can stop and enjoy the scenery? I don't think so," Sirius replied as he stopped walking. Without warning he charged at the girls, breaking through their chain. Quickly he grabbed hold of Mora, throwing the shrieking girl over his shoulder.

"There! Now we might reach Hogsmede by nightfall," he smiled as he caught up with James, Sirius, and Peter, with Mora struggling against his grasp.

"SIRIUS BLACK!" Mora shouted as she kicked and pounded her fists against him, still held firmly on his shoulder. "Put me down right NOW!"

"Sorry luv, you've gotta take one for the team," Sirius replied as Mora groaned.

"Not fair," Mora retorted.

"Eh, lots of things in life aren't always fair," Reamus thought aloud. "Otherwise it just wouldn't be life."

Mora looked to the boy angrily. "Instead of thinking up the answers to life's great mysteries, how about a little help here?"

Reamus sighed, nodding in agreement. "Alright, alright. Padfoot, couldn't you let Mora walk like a big girl?" he said as Mora frowned.

"Fine," Sirius sighed loudly. Mora didn't even have the chance to slid off of him, as she was promptly hoisted up again by Sirius bridal style and thrust into the arms of a very unexpecting Peter. The two crashed to the ground, landing with a very pained _oui_.

"Peter, are you okay?" Mora asked in concern, still on top of the boy.

"Been better..." he squeaked out.

"Hey look!" an unwelcome voice sounded from a short distance away. "Looks like Pettigrew finally found himself a girl!" Severus Snape shouted over the crowd.

Mora shook her head as she toppled off of Peter, helping him to his feet as well. Of course, one things Mora learned over both her years at Hogwarts; there will always be a Slytherin nearby ready to make a rude comment or an insult whenever you don't need them.

"You're one to talk _Snivellus_," James shouted back to the Slytherin.

"Yeah!" Sirius joined in, "Whenever you come within a foot of a girl she runs in the other direction screaming bloody murder."

"Very funny Black," Severus said as he turned around, starting off on his lonesome way again. He had every intention of walking away from the Gryffindors that second. James and Sirius however, had a different idea.

James and Sirius shared a quick look with one another before drawing their wands from their pockets. Without exchanging a single word the two ran after Snape, cutting him off. "Now that wasn't very polite, Snape," James started, his wand at his side, yet ready. Before Severus could even reach inside his coat jacket both Sirius and James' wands raised, pointed straight at Severus.

Mora and the others remained some distance away, watching as the two harassed the defenseless Slytherin. "Not again with those two," Reamus said as he shook his head.

"I guess they do this a lot, do they?" Mora said.

"It's one of their great passions in life," Emmeline answered as she and Lily joined with the three. "Pranks, Quidditch, and tormenting Snape."

"Let them have their fun, then maybe we can _finally_ get to the village," Peter said as he looked upon the scene as if it were a daily occurrence.

"Strange though, they really toned it done last year," Emmeline examined. "They've barley said two words to Snape this semester too. And for a second there I thought our boys were growing up.

Lily snorted. "Black? And _Potter_? Maturity will always be far beyond their reach. Even when he surprises you with a glimpse of being a man, he shrinks back into a whinny little boy."

"Somehow I get the feeling she's not talking about Sirius anymore," Reamus whispered rather loudly to Mora, as Lily smacked him annoyingly upside the head.

"I've had enough of this nonsense..." Lily grumbled as she stormed away to confront James, Sirius, and the corned Snape. From the distance Mora could hear Lily let out a fuming _James Mathew Potter_ in her disciplinary tone of voice.

"Ouch," Peter winced as he watched Lily blast his fellow Gryffindors for their rash actions.

As the fighting pursued, Snape managed to finally walk away thanks to Lily, but not before being on the receiving end of a rather nasty stinging hex compliments of Sirius. Grudgefully, Sirius trudged back to the others. However, James would not be moved.

"This could get ugly..." Sirius said as he arrived besides his friends, watching as a monumental screaming match ensued between James and his _beloved_.

"You're a bloody prick, Potter!"

"Me? ME! I'm a prick? Do you remember what Snape calls you? What he says as he's passing you?"

"That doesn't matter -"

"He calls you a mudblood Lily! A mudblood! And you have the nerve to stand up for him. YOU?"

Mora stood there, bewildered. This fight was much deeper than a simple show of taunting Snape. After these weeks of James always saying how much he cared for Lily, stories of how he pursued her without end all of these years, after the entire Lily James saga had been played out for Mora, this? This public show of anger and frustration with one another? Mora could hardly understand why James carried on like this.

"What's the matter with them?" Mora mumbled under her breath.

"Sometimes," Sirius started, apparently picking up on Mora's short comment, "When you're so passionate about something, or someone, the frustration or the rejection just gets to you at one point. And there's no holding that in."

Mora looked back to Sirius, shocked that something so profound could come out of his own mouth. _I guess you shouldn't base people off the obvious_... she thought.

"RIGHT! ME!" Lily screamed back. "Because I don't think anyone should be bullied but a big pompous jerk like YOU!"

"Well next time someone throws you around, I'll turn the other cheek!" James shouted angrily. "Happy now?"

"But that's it! No one was being _thrown around_ here! You just decided to beat down Severus for your own sick enjoyment!"

"Enjoyment?" James snapped back as he came closer to Lily. "Well maybe some of us aren't as forgiving as you are, Lily. Some of us can't forget what Snape has done."

"Well then..." Lily said, dropping her voice. "That makes you a coward."

"ALRIGHT!" Sirius roared above the bickering couple, coming between them. "That's enough. Both of you"

The shouting ceased, leaving James and Lily simply standing there, staring at each other as if they had never crossed eyes before.

"Can't we all just have a nice day?" Peter said. "Together?"

Lily tore her green eyes away from James, casting them to Peter. She shook her head. "No. I don't think so." And with that she stormed away, leaving Emmeline chasing after her, having to sprint to finally reach the fuming redhead.

"Prongs?" Reamus echoed. "You alright there?"

James looked up to his friends, the marauders and a very worried Mora. "Just leave me alone for awhile," he said hurriedly, before taking off in the other direction, leaving Peter, Reamus, Mora, and Sirius to gawk behind.

Mora watched as James went off, kicking the dirt in fury. She looked back to the others, her blue eyes welling with concern. "I'll talk to him," she said.

"Mora, do you really think that's a good idea?" Sirius asked. "Shouldn't he blow off some steam first?"

"You want to see James _blow off some steam_?" Mora said, placing her hands on her hip. "He's got a wand and any second now a pack of third years will be coming up that hill. Would you like to see what that turns into?"

Sirius looked to his fellow Marauders; he nodded their heads in a hasty agreement. "On second thought," Reamus said "Go for it. Once James cools off, tell him we'll all meet at the pub."

Mora agreed as she bid farewell to the others. Turning her gaze, her eyes spotted James, who had abandoned the path. He sat atop the large grassy hill, belly up as if he was drowning.

_Here goes nothing..._


	13. A Good Drink

13. A Good Drink

James snapped his eyes shut, not wanting to stare up at the cloudy October sky. He stretched across the grass, the feeling of the ground brushing under his skin. James felt as if he had been dragged into the earth, sinking further and further beneath its surface until he suffocated far below the hill, and Hogwarts, and his own, haughty attitude which became his downfall.

James let out a deep, heavy sigh. At times like these James realized why he truly hated himself. He hated that he could let his mouth run in such a way that it could make everything come crashing down. He hated that no matter what he said he simply couldn't justify his undying urge to have fun in his own, immature way. And what he hated the most was that he love Lily Evans so bloody much.

"Awake down there?"

James cracked his eyes open, staring up at the petite figure of his friends. The hazel eyes shut once again as he said slowly, "Afraid so."

"Mind if I join you?" Mora asked as she lay down beside him. Mora took a deep breath in, filling the strange silence that settled between the two. She looked back to James, the expression on his face pulling at her heart. "Don't beat yourself up over it, James."

"Why not?" James piped back. "After all, it is my fault."

"It's not the blame that matters right now," Mora responded. "You both said things you didn't mean, you both -"

"Oh no..." James snapped as he sat up, springing like a fire had been lit beneath him. "No, she told the truth. Every, painful bit of it."

"James," Mora started, unsure of what to even say.

"She's right you know," he said, his glasses laying slightly askew across his face. "I am ridiculously immature. Me and Sirius both. All we ever do it goof around, never take anything seriously for a second of our bloody lives..."

"Do you want that to change?" Mora asked softly as she sat up.

"I., I-" James stammered on. "Yes."

"Well," Mora started, a smile creeping over her features. "Mister Potter, finally cleaning up his act, never thought I'd live to see the day."

"What can I say, I'm full of surprises," James smiled. "Mora?"

"Yeah?" she answered as her eyes drifted up to the light autumn sky.

"Do you honestly think, if I pull it together, Lily will ever give me a chance?"

Mora turned to James, her smile softening. "Of course, James. And I think once she does, you'll sweep the lovely Miss Evans off her feet."

An expression of relief swept over James' face.

"But..." Mora went on as James' face dropped, "You might blow it, and end up losing Lily forever and live a loveless life in a shack with a good fifty or more cats for company and live out your days in a deep depression."

James store back to Mora, blinking before pushing her over playfully. "You're such a little pain, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Occasionally," Mora smiled as she stood up, outstretching a hand to James. "C'mon, let's get down there."

"Alright," he said, taking her hand as Mora hoisted him up. "But first drinks are on you."

Mora laughed. "Always the gentleman, now aren't you Mister Potter?"

Excited flocks of students stampeded across the village, disappearing out of one shop, and stampeding out of the next. Laughter and squeals echoed down the small avenues, locals of the village both happy and somewhat afraid of the younglings. Every fist visit to Hogsmede of the year was always like this. Not a sour face in sight.

But this year, there were a few people who seemed to break this mold.

Reamus stood alone in a corner of Honeyduke's Sweet Shop, watching as Emmeline once again failed in cheering the distraught Miss Evans. Reamus abandoned Sirius and Peter to wait at the pub. promising to go fetch the girls and return quickly. Yet here Reamus stood for what seemed like ages, unable to tear his eyes away.

That always seemed to be the case whenever Reamus found himself in a room with Emmeline.

That same, horrifying feeling that fled into Reamus' stomach, that ate away at whatever scarp of composure he still maintained. His palms grew moist, his heart knotted together, his knees buckled together. Worst of all, Reamus' confidence fell through the floor at an all time low whenever Emmeline Taylor caught his eye.

_Whatever you think when you look at her, forget about it Lupin,_Reamus told himself surely_._ _No way in hell would she ever fell the same way about you. And even if she did, there is no way you two could be together._

Reamus sighed as he dropped his eyes to the floor. Whenever he dosed off into his dreams, reality always had a way of nagging back into the truth. Reamus knew that it would never work, ever. Emmeline could never care for someone like Reamus, something like him. Something that turned into a monster, lost control of himself, even if for a few nights a month. Someone plagued with this life could never find happiness, never find love.

_It's the way things are meant to be..._ Reamus reminded himself. His eyes wandered back to the girl as regret welled inside of him. He watched her strong movements, her long dark brown curls bounce over her shoulders, her warm disposition comfort her best friend. If only things could be different, even for a day, if Reamus could tell Emmeline how he felt, without fear of rejection, or of the future, or what would happen on the next full moon.

If for even one day, Reamus' burden of being a werewolf disappeared.

_But you are a werewolf!_ Reamus' conscience screamed. _You are! And nothing in this world can change that!_

"Reamus?" Emmeline's voice shattered Reamus awake again. He store back into her deep brown eyes, losing himself in their obis. "You better tell the guys this'll take longer then expected. She's a stubborn on, she is."

_I love you, Emmeline Taylor. I love you, I-_

"Reamus, are you alright?"

_NO! I'm helpless and hopeless head over heels with you! Can't you see?_

"Fine, sorry," Reamus responded. "Alright, so I'll catch up with you later then?" And without looking back, Reamus turned around and headed for the door.

Little did he know someone waited for him there, after watching the love sick boy flee from the object of his affection.

"I can't believe I didn't see it before!"

Reamus spun around, seeing Mora and James waiting right outside of the sweet shop, a goofy grin spreading across the brunette's face.

_Uh-oh,_ Reamus heard alarms go off in his head.

"Is it really that obvious?" Reamus muttered as he joined the two.

Mora felt her jaw drop. How had she never seen this before? Of course, she must have known. Whenever Emmy and Reamus were in the same room together, a strange feeling creped between the two. "I think obvious doesn't even begin to describe it," Mora smiled brightly. "Well, fess up then. How long have you fancied her?"

James chuckled. "What, has it been months now Moony?"

Reamus looked back to James, "Gee, way to keep a secret, mate."

"Doesn't matter, you're pretty much busted now," James responded, his hands planted deep within the pockets of his jacket.

Mora's grin couldn't stop growing. For a while know she had known that Emmeline secretly adored Reamus as well, much more than _just friends_. And now that she learned Reamus returned and even exemplified the affection, Mora couldn't feel more excited.

"So, do plan on telling her any time this century?" Mora asked without delay.

"PHSSST," Reamus sounded immediately, looking back to Mora as if she had three heads resting upon her shoulders. "Absolutely not, no...not in a million years."

"Well why not?" Mora fired back.

Reamus sighed, brushing one hand through his ginger brown hair. "Because... because even by some miracle she fancied me too, any relationship we had is doomed to fail."

"And that's you're great reasoning behind it?" Mora snapped back, frustration growing inside her. "You're wiling to give up a chance at happiness because you're afraid it'll be difficult?" 

"Not _difficult_," Reamus said back quickly, his own temper rising as well. "Because I would hurt her. I would hurt her and I refuse to do that to Emmy."

"Mora," James jumped in, delicately tugging on her arm, "We should go catch up with Sirius and Peter. Reamus can make sure the girls don't get lost in there"

"Alright..." she said, as she and James headed for the Three Broomsticks, leaving Reamus behind.

"It makes sense, you know" Mora sighed as they nearly reached the pub. James looked back to Mora, confusion rising in his hazel eyes. "Avoiding it all. I know if I could go back I would stay away from T-" Mora stopped herself dead in her tracks.

She refused, simply would not give into it all. Mora would never speak his name again. Tom was nothing but the biggest mistake in all of Mora's life, and now that Mora had a new life here, in this time, she strived in whichever way possible to bury all unfavorable memories. And the one memory she needed to chain away far from her was Tom.

"Mora," James said softly. "It's...it's alright to talk about him."

"No," Mora said, shaking her head quickly as she stopped walking in the middle of the street. "No, it's not. Mora Cartea is dead," she went on, in a tone so low that James could barely hear her. "She's dead and buried, and all there is to do now is forget."

"But you can't just forget, Mora," James insisted. "You can't just lock it all away-"

"And why not?" Mora snapped back. "Why can't I?"

"Because eventually, if you don't deal with the past, it'll sneak up on you. And then there will be nothing you can do to avoid it all."

Mora looked back to James. Lily certainly was right, James Potter was a strange, strange pain in the arse. He was still a boy, through and through. And then, he had those moments, where it was clear that he had become, in some, small ways, a man.

"Maybe you're right," Mora said. "But today is not that day."

"Good." James smiled, throwing his arm over the girl as they continued strolling down the bustling street. "Alright, so now maybe I can buy the first round."

"You better! Because right now I think we all need a _really_ good drink"


	14. Nowhere to Run

14. Nowhere to Run

"Well, what a way to start off your morning on the right foot," Lily grumbled sarcastically as she threw her book-bag beneath the table angrily. A few stray bits of parchment spilled out to the floor, each with more frantic scribbling of ink than the next. "Fail an arthimancy test, walk into a wall and get a fat bloody lip!" Lily dropped down onto the bench besides Mora, burying her face on the harsh wood of the table. The rest of the Great Hall seemed unphased by Lily's rant, everyone still happily chattering away over their lunches.

"C'mon Lil, I'm sure you didn't fail," Reamus reassured as he handed his friend a plate. "Be honest, how many questions do you think you got wrong, that you're _sure_ you got wrong."

Lily cast her emerald eyes off to her empty plate. "Four," she mumbled out.

"Out of..." Reamus asked.

Lily sighed loudly before muttering out, "Sixty three."

Mora gagged on her apple cider as Lily hurried out the number. Harshly she swallowed down the liquid, stifling away her laughter. "Lily, you did fine," she said behind her giggles. "Quit worrying and eat something, you look like you're about to pass out."

"I lost my appetite," Lily said as she pushed the plate further away from her.

"That doesn't really matter," Reamus said, nudging the plate back to Lily. "Eat something or else we'll just have to hold you down and force you to eat."

"Oh really?" Lily replied, crossing her arms stiffly across her chest.

"Or..." Mora smiled. "We can always call down the re-enforcements..."

"Everyone!" Peter cried as he ran down the Hall, a paper clutched in his pudgy little fist. He hurried up the aisle, reaching his fellow Gryffindors. He plopped down beside Reamus, nearly out of breath. He threw the paper down on the table, the head line screaming out to Mora.

" _**MURDERS TERRIFY LONDON**_ "

"Murders? How many?" Lily echoed as her eyes scanned the article.

Mora felt herself drawn to one particular spot on the page. The photograph had no caption, no explanation to explain what image it held. It held a sham of a house, burned from the inside out. The chimney crumbled in, windows melted off the walls, a once cheery yellow like paint charred into a mess of dark shadows. Smoke still billowed from the many gaps where the roof had let out.

Yet it wasn't the house that terrified Mora. But the ghostly mark that hung just above it that rocked her to the core. It shone an eerie shade of green, shinning against the darkened clouded sky. It was in the shape of a skull, and a serpent curled from its mouth, moving back and forth above the shaken town. Mora had no idea what this symbol could mean, why this scar on the skyline horrified her, as well as countless others. Yet all she could do was stare, to afraid to even blink.

"That..." Reamus thought aloud, "That house, it looks familiar -" Yet his words stopped as the realization dawned upon him. "Oh, oh Merlin no..." Without another word Reamus bounded up from his seat and sprinted out of the hall, leaving all of his belongings behind.

Mora turned to Lily, tears welling inside her eyes. "Lily..." Mora said softly, "Who's house is that?"

But Lily could not provide an answer, as she too bolted out of her seat, leaving Mora to gawk behind.

"It's Emmeline's house," Peter spoke up quickly, his voice nearly cracking.

Mora felt herself bring a hand to her mouth. "No..."

"The Death Eaters," Peter started, as Mora's eyes frantically sprang back to him. "They killed everyone in the house next door, the muggle neighbors. Even the kids. Then they set the entire block on fire."

"And Em's family," Mora said quickly. "Are they?"

Peter lowered his head. "Her parents got out, but...her younger brother, Edmund, he's still unaccounted for."

Mora's eyes locked back to the picture. _The Death Eaters...Tom's army did this. Tom did this_.

"Was there any motive for this?" Mora said instinctively. "Anything at all... that could explain why..."

"It's the Death Eaters, Mora..." Peter said simply, as if this gruesome attack was nothing out of the ordinary. "They do this kind of thing for fun."

Mora store back to Peter blankly. _For fun?_ she thought. _Fun? Slaughtering innocent people in the middle of the night, was for their own sick enjoyment?_

Mora never understood the severity of this war. All these weeks all Mora strived for was to forget everything. To forget Tom, the reality of what he turned himself into. But the truth was, Mora would never be able to truly escape it all. And this horrifying day proved it. The war was all around them, holding them captive in this never ending nightmare. No matter how far Mora could run, the truth would always find her. Tom could one day find her.

_Doesn't mean I can't give them a good fight..._

Mora sat alone on the sofa, clutching her legs against her. The day excruciatingly long, leaving Mora to drown away alone. The past few days had been silent, there was no laughter, no joking around, not a single shred of happiness to be found in the dreary tower. And then there were two days. Two days of absolutely nothing. Two days since Emmeline had left for home, some how surviving through her younger brother's funeral. She demanded that no one come with her, that her fellow Gryffindors stay at school and simply wait.

_She doesn't want us to see her weak_, Mora though to herself. _She doesn't want to fall apart in front of us._

Edmund Taylor, age nine. Loved playing some muggle sport _basketball_ as well as comic books and creepy crawly creatures. Eddie had grown a considerable amount over the summer and practically towered over his classmates. His favorite color was magenta. How many nine year olds lived out there whose favorite color was _magenta_? That's what Edmund was known for the most. For being so different, unique.

And now, little Edmund Taylor lay in an unforgiving coffin, his small body charred away, his open heart stopped permanently. Edmund Taylor was dead, murdered in the night. Living proof that evil scraps away whatever piece of good that may be left in this world. That evil destroys innocence.

Mora watched as her friends fell apart those dreadful days. Reamus hardly came out of his dorm, he simply waited by his window, waiting hopelessly for something. Something that Mora knew would never come. Peter became so distraught he wound up in the hospital wing, and no one knew exactly what was wrong with him. Sirius kept to himself, no longer cracking jokes or going out of his way to reach some kind of attention. He just remained still, and let the world pass him by.

James had stayed with Lily these past days, doing anything and absolutely everything to help her through this all. For countless hours she would simply cry, and James would be right there beside her, refusing to leave her to her own solitude. He held her hand, let her cry on his shoulder, and although Mora knew he would never admit it, she knew James had done some crying of his own.

And then there was Mora. Mora, who had no idea how to act throughout this tragedy. All she could do was stare into space and just try to process everything that had happened. Try to understand how people could be that cruel, kill on a whim, kill an innocent child who never wronged anyone. Mora, despite her hardest attempts, could not see how a band of people could live by those codes.

Yet she had never understood. Her entire family had been taken by this violence, this evil that sucked their world dry. She watched as classmates fell not because of who they were, what they had done, but what their parents were. For being unworthy in people's eyes.

In Tom's eyes.

It was Tom who caused this all. The moment in their sixth years he decided to murder those people, young little Myrtle and all the others, Tom triggered this massive destruction of all what was good in this world. And all Mora could do now was blame herself.


	15. The Truth Untold

15. The Truth Untold

Mora store blankly into space, still perched on the same empty sofa. The night was cold and dark, and her only companion were her regrets, her fears, and the thoughts that always plagued her mind.

"Hey there."

Mora didn't even turn her head, despite her surprise that James stood beside her. Her glazed blue eyes remained lost in space as James sat beside her. "How's Lily?" she managed to choke out.

"Sleeping, Merlin knows she needs it," James confessed. "What about you? How are you holding up?"

Mora looked up to James, catching sight of his worn, exhausted hazel eyes. "As good as a murderer can be expected."

A look of confusion spread over his face. "A what? Mora, what are you-"

"We both know," Mora started, her tone flat and emotionless, "That everything that happens comes back to me. That everything is my fault."

"That's absolutely insane," James said back quickly. "Impossible. Mora, you have nothing to do with this. You weren't there that night, you didn't kill those people. That scum-"

"That scum wouldn't even exist if it weren't for me!" Mora shouted as she bounded up from her seat.

"I don't understand," James replied, staring back to Mora.

Mora turned her back to James, taking a few steps forward. "That day..." she began softly. "That day, everyone thought I had died...it was the day I found out what Tom really was."

"How?" James said weakly.

"There's a lot you don't know about what really happened that year," Mora went on as she spun back to face him. "In this castle. It started in the fall, when a body was found in the middle of a corridor. She had been attacked, nearly killed, for who she was-no. For _what_ she was. She was muggle born."

James' jaw dropped slowly as the realization dawned upon him. "He...he did it?"

Mora nodded solemnly. "As time went on more and more students turned up, no one in the entire school had any idea who it was. All that time, we were together, and he would go behind my back and do these horrible things." Mora stiffed back a sob.

"Finally, Tom had finally done it. He killed a girl, and then he framed my best friend for it all. Tom walked away clean, and Rubeus..." Mora stopped, taking a breath in a last, desperate attempt to calm herself. Yet she failed in preventing a few stray tears from falling.

"Rebues took the fall. His wand was snapped in half, he was kicked out of school. His entire life, destroyed, by a monster. Just because he was half giant. Because Tom thought he was unclean, and because Rubeus was so close to me," Mora forced out.

"That day, I found out his secret. And he admitted it to me. He looked me straight in the eye, and told me he was justified, that through killing her, he was a hero. Can you believe that?" Mora said. "And I didn't believe it for a second. I just stood there, completely blind. I couldn't understand how Tom, the one person I had loved, could do this."

"Did you still love him?" James spoke up abruptly. Mora turned to him quickly, the tears stuck in her eyes rebelling. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, no, you deserve to know," Mora replied. "Tom and I were no longer together, but...I still loved him."

_In love with the monster..._ Mora thought to herself. _I would rather be dead than ever remember that ever again._

"Anyway," Mora said, trying to shake her emotions off of her, "I threatened to turn him in, but he got my wand, he cornered me. For a second I thought he would hurt me, even kill me. But didn't someone have to come waltzing in, someone who Tom hated more than anyone in the world, Eric Bayard."

James' glowing hazel eyes swelled. "So, that's why you hate Colton so much..."

"That, and the fact that Colton's the scum of the earth. And what his father did to me-" Mora stopped herself immediately.

_Let's not dump everything on James at once, shall we_? Mora ordered herself. There could be another time to tell him about Eric, or she could simply forget him completely. Either way, Mora would not think about him tonight.

"He and Tom started fighting, and Tom had every intention of killing Eric, right there and then. And I just watched. Tom got Eric wandless, and then I had a choice. I could run straight out of there, get help and then Tom would pay for his actions. I could tell everyone the truth, and they would have locked him up. Tom would never become _Voldemort_ none of this would ever happen. I could have saved countless lives, and what the hell did I do?"

Mora turned away from James, her back once again to him. She was so ashamed, she couldn't even look at James. She wasn't sure if she could ever look at him again after tonight. "I decided to save Eric. How ironic is that?" Mora shouted.

"How twisted is that! The one person who tortured me for months, terrorized me, made me afraid to leave me dorm. And I saved his sorry shell of a life. Hundreds of people have died now because I made the wrong choice. Edmund, muggles, my entire family! DEAD!"

Mora extended her hand, clutching to the mantel of the fireplace for dear life. She supported herself against it as she let out a sob. "I had the chance, to end all of this before it began, and I blew it. I killed those people. I killed Ed. And for that, I deserve to pay the price."

Mora felt numb from head to toe. Never did she ever expect to tell anyone what happened that day. She never even discussed anything that happened with Dumbledore, he claimed to know what happened. But there was no way he truly knew what happened. If he learned what Mora had done, he would have kicked her out of this place faster than she had appeared.

"Mora..." James whispered, moving from his seat. He stood behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Mora, you saved Eric's life. You had no way of knowing V-Tom, would do all of this..."

Mora spun around, shaking James' hand away. "But I knew!" Mora shouted. "I knew he what he did, I knew he was a cold-hearted killer, and in my own impulsive stupidity, I let him get away with it. ALL of it!"

"Mora, NO!" James shouted back as Mora lost her control. Sobs overtook the girl, and before a single second passed James pulled her close to him, letting the girl cry into his shoulder. "You couldn't just walk away and let Tom kill him. I know it seems wrong, and twisted, but you did the right thing."

"But why?" Mora cried. "Why couldn't I make a run for it?"

"And what if you had? You don't know if you could have made it out there in time. He could have panicked and killed you instead."

"So I saved my own life, basically," Mora said through her distraught state. "I took the selfish way out."

"No, you didn't." James parted from Mora, holding her face in his hands. "I know it seems unfair, but there was nothing you could have done to stop him from doing what he did. From becoming what he did."

"It's not fair, at all..." Mora choked out.

"So, you couldn't stop Tom, or Voldemort, or whatever his name is," James started earnestly. "It doesn't mean we can't make a difference now. It doesn't mean we can't fight."

Eventually Emmeline arrived back at Hogwarts, only staying with her family for two weeks. There had been talk that Emmeline wouldn't finish out the school year, that she wanted to be there for her family, her parents. They were all she had left now. But Emmeline returned, squashing away all the rumors. She refused to spend her time in mourning, to let this event rule her life. _Eddie wouldn't want that..._ Emmeline said, again and again. Repeating it, breathing it. _Eddie would want me to be happy._

But Emmeline was far from happy. She tried her hardest to go back to _normal_, even though she and everyone else knew normal stood far from reach so soon. She was significantly distant, not as out spoken nor opinionated as before. She spent her nights alone, going to bed much earlier and sleeping in till noon. No one wanted to push the girl, but Mora knew Emmeline needed them in order to truly start living again. And maybe, one day, to be happy again.

Yet whenever Mora saw Emmeline passing, she couldn't help but feel her guilt rise inside her. James assured her, again and again, that none of it was Mora's fault, that she had no control of the situation. But she simply couldn't let the feelings go. Now Mora knew, more than ever she could never reveal her secret to anyone.

If she ever told Emmeline, confessed the truth to her, of her life with Tom, she knew Emmeline would abandon her completely. Voldemort was to cause to this all, to Edmund's murder. Emmeline vowed that some day she would seek justice for his death, to avenge her little brother. She wanted blood, and only blood would appease her appetite. Mora knew if she ever spoke a word of being with Tom, Emmeline would never be able to look at Mora again.

Yet slowly as time rolled on, days melted into a week, and then to two, Emmeline gained a bit of her former self back. She was changed, forever and completely, yet her old, bubbly self still remained intact. Edmund's death pulled the seven of them closer together, their strange, ridiculously dysfunctional family.

Another pair emerged stronger from the tragedy. Lily abandoned herself proclaimed loathing for James. His compassion and care for her in her absolute point of need had proved to her that James was not the _childish, immature, ridiculous selfish prick_ she knew him for. And now, for the first time, it was safe to say the two grew extremely close.

Slowly, but surely, Mora thought they would all make it.


	16. Run for It

16. Run For It

Mora wrapped her cloak tighter across her shoulders as she ran across the grounds, the only thing lighting her way the glow of the full moon. Not a soul was to be seen late that night as Mora ran across the frosted grass. The sound crunching under her feet sent chills up her spine, yet it was not enough to deter Mora from her target.

Time had passed without a single disturbance in Mora's life. No unwanted memories, no broken bones or bloodied faces, no note worthy upheavals by a certain Slytherin crew. Mora had made it well into the month of November, alive and well. Everything seemed to be going great for the girl. Yet, in the two months she had lived in this place again, as the new Mora Ashford, now she could fell that something was not right.

Mora had positively no idea why she was even going there tonight. No significance laid on this day, nothing triggered her throughout the course of her routine. Everything seemed strangely ordinary. How odd it sounded for Mora to have a seemingly normal day. Yet something nagged in the back of Mora's mind, as it had been for ever since she first stumbled upon the place. But why then if the spot held so many unfavorable memories, why would Mora fell so drawn to the place? What on Earth could make Mora need to visit her grave site?

As Mora's frantic pace stopped for a moment, her eyes caught a glimpse of the towering limbs of the enormous tree. They moved together now, as if in movement with a nonexistent breeze. Not angry or blood thirsty as it had the day Mora and Emmeline found themselves at it's mercy, but almost peaceful.

Mora hoisted up her cloak as she hurried further towards the willow. She fell something deep within her pulling her closer and closer to the sight, something she couldn't identify. What did Mora think she would find there? Closure? From a grave that didn't even hold a body, a grave which masked the lie her life depended on? Did Mora believe seeing the tree would bring her peace, or just more anger and hatred that would build up to her life?

Slowly, Mora stood below the tree. What if she was wrong? What if this monster didn't recognize her as she believed, what if it still knocked her straight through the air, beat her into the dust until there was nothing left to find of her?

Despite her doubts, Mora moved on foot forward. And then the other followed, and another, and another. Before long she stood straight at the base of the willow. The branches slowly rose to the air, not budging as Mora remained beneath them. Having some feeling of safety, Mora wandered further, until the ancient, engraved stone came into view.

_Now what?_ Mora thought to herself. Cautiously, she knelt before the stone, as if she truly were paying her respects. Mindlessly she traced over her name with her index finger, feeling out the groves of one word in particular, _friend_.

Friend, they called her? These people were never Mora's friend. A friend would not leave Mora to die that day, a friend would mourn their loss. A friend would not plop a grave marker randomly in a place where no one could find it. In a perfect hiding place, to mask away the shame her sudden death had brought upon them, the school, it's headmaster. No, a friend wouldn't have betrayed Mora in this way, a friend would not give up on her as they had.

_Well, it's not as if they're all living their fairy tales now either,_ Mora thought. Cassidy was dead, forced into a life she never dreamed for herself. Eric was left a father, something Mora knew he despised, and despite his money and his high ranking, could Eric Bayard truly be happy? Dippet too had died, many years ago. But happened to the others, to Jades, Korbin, Ellery? Were they happy? Did they to become followers of Tom? Mora didn't even know if they were even still living.

_It doesn't matter now_... Mora thought to herself. _All that matters now is me. Me getting through tomorrow, and the next day. Me staying alive._

It was strange, yet in Mora's unexpected _death_ that hazy June afternoon, she had been granted the greatest gift, or curse, of all. She had been give a new life. Another chance to start over. But starting over didn't mean abandoning her past. It meant coming to terms with it all, and maybe even some day, forgiveness.

But would Mora ever be ready for that?

Mora shook the thought away. She wasn't about to set a timeline for herself. That was the last thing that could do Mora any good. Mora broke her hand away from the stone. Maybe this grave had been ignored by all others for thirty some years. But now, it had a purpose. It was there for Mora, to remember, and to move past it all.

Mora sighed, which transformed into a long, drawled yawn. Mora's exhaustion began to take hold of her, her eyelids dropping together. She tried to shake away the sensation, to force herself awake. Yet Mora couldn't control it. Slowly, Mora leaned against her own grave, and before she could fight it any further, she slipped away into a deep sleep.

Mora's eyes jolted awake. She jumped up, not remembering how she arrived at this place in the middle of the night. Her eyes refocused to the dark, catching the grave stone and the giant willow. Mora let out a sigh as her fears washed away. The night sky began to dim, a small, glimmer of light etching from the other side of the castle. Morning soon would break over Hogwarts, and if Mora didn't sneak back to Gryffindor Tower soon, she would be in more trouble than she wanted to imagine.

As Mora turned to leave, a low, dark sound filled her ears. It was distant, but strong nonetheless. It sounded almost like a growl of sorts, from some wild, angry beast. Mora spun around, searching for whatever creature howled at her. Fear began to rise inside the girl as Mora stumbled backwards. Where was it coming from?

The howl echoed again, sending a chill down Mora's spine. Never had she heard anything like it. She spun around, still blind to whatever is was. Nervously she stammered back further, not sure if she should make a run for it, or if she simply was overreacting. Yet, her suspicions were confirmed as the creature emerged from the shadows, as if it had appeared from the base of the tree.

Whatever this creature was, in Mora's eyes it was a terrifying beast. It raced across the ground of all fours, the brown fur sticking up over its body. It looked like some sort of enormous dog, with its tufted tail, short snout, and shaggy, ragged appearance, it's haunting, stingy yellow eyes glowed through the darkness. Mora felt frozen in her place, the only thing she could do was stare at the monster. Suddenly, the stark golden eyes landed straight upon Mora.

The creature let out another, fierce growl as slowly it took another step towards Mora. _GO! Run! Get out of there!_ Mora's mind screamed at her. _DO SOMETHING!_ But her feet remained glued to the ground, unable to move in her terrified state. The monster's pace quickened, and in the blink of an eye it began to charge towards her.

Finally, Mora jumped away, running as fast as her legs could carry her. She felt blind in the darkness, unaware if she ran towards the safety of the castle, or further away. As her feet pounded harder and harder against the ground, Mora watched from the corner of her eye as the beast drew closer. Slowly Mora lost more and more ground, and the monster chased mere meters behind her.

_Don't look back, just keep going! GO! _Mora thought frantically. Losing her footing, Mora toppled to the ground, her own fast pace her demise. Mora clawed at the ground, doing whatever she could in order to keep moving. But it was no use. Mora flipped over, lying on her back as she watched the monster tower over her. A scream formed in Mora's throat, but her terror kept it locked inside her. All Mora was left to do was tremble as the monster crept closer, ready to rip her to pieces.

Mora clenched her eyes shut as she braced herself. _This is it. After all this time afraid of Voldemort, I'm about to be killed be a rabid puppy dog..._

But the blow she readied for never came. Another scream from some strange animal ripped through the night, and then another. Mora's eyes snapped open, and the beast was no longer towering above her. Mora sprang up to her feet as her gaze remained locked on the monster. Two more creatures had emerged from the shadows, diverting the monster's attention. Mora barley identified the other creatures as she squinted through the darkness. A swift stag charged at the monster, knocking it off its feet. Right by its side, a giant, black sort of dog barked menacingly.

The monster stumbled back to its feet, much more strength left inside it than Mora expected. It lashed back, throwing the dog high into the air before it crashed back to earth, squealing in pain. The stag again attacked the monster, and the two animals raced off into the distance, until all Mora could do was hear their angry cries.

Mora ran forward, unsure of what exactly she was doing. She found herself kneeling beside the dog, whose breathing increased to a dangerous speed. This animal unexplainably saved Mora's life, for no reason at all. And now it could have paid the ultimate price for its actions. Slowly Mora outstretched her hand to the dog. Cautiously, she placed her hand upon the dog's back. Mora stroked it, trying to comfort this animal. Her brain screamed to her run to safety, to get out of there before the beasts came back to finish her off. Yet something deeper inside her urged Mora to stay.

The dog winced, and Mora drew her hand back immediately. Had she hurt it? Had she somehow made it worse? Mora fell backwards as the dog began to shake, its body contorting without control. Mora felt helpless as the dog screamed in pain. Suddenly, its body began to change form. From big to small, to lean to wide. As the transformation completed, it was no longer a dog that lay before Mora. But a full grown person, and one that Mora knew.

"S-Sirius?"

Sirius jolted awake. _Well, that's one way to spend your evening. Chase after your fury little friend until you kicks your arse into the dirt_ Sirius thought to himself as he rubbed his eyes wearily. Yes, tonight turned out to be much uglier than Sirius had hoped. Reamus had his ups and downs with this monthly visit, and tonight could definitely be classified as a down. Not only did Reamus attempt to eat poor little Peter, but somehow in the confusion he managed to escape the Shrieking Shack and end up back on the grounds.

_Dumbledore's not going to be thrilled with this one..._ Sirius reminded himself as his knee twanged in pain. He became accustomed to his battle scars from this, the bumps, scraps, bloodied faces, bruises and the broken noises. Once or twice he managed to rip his shoulder out of his socket, which always made a fun story for his grandkids one day. Despite the severity of the situation, Sirius always found some way to poke fun at him and his mates. Anything at all that kept their spirits up. They needed it. Reamus needed it, and he needed them.

"S-Sirius?"

Sirius jumped up, startled by the voice. It didn't sound like James, or Peter, and especially not Reamus. Sirius spun around, searching for the owner of the voice. Finally, his eyes fell onto the girl sitting before him, rising to her feet.

_Oh no._

There she stood, Mora Ashford. Her blue eyes flooded with tears, her delicate frame trembling as she store back at Sirius in awe. _Oh no no oh Merlin..._ Sirius couldn't stop his brain from shouting at him. Red flags went up, radars screamed, alarms went off. But all Sirius could do was stare. This girl, who they had only known for two short months, broke their secret. Without any warning, any signs at all, what they had strived to keep hidden for years now shattered before Sirius' eyes.

"Mora-" What could Sirius possibly say to her? What words could make any of this seem right, to stop her from running through the castle screaming bloody murder? Sirius took a step closer to the girl. Mora stumbled back a step, her terror shinning through to Sirius.

From the corner of his eye Sirius caught a glimmer of the sun etching over the sky. _I've got to get her out of here before the sun rises, she can't know, she can't know about Reamus..._

"Mora, just listen to me..." Sirius began, stretching a hand out to her. "We've got to get out of here, it's not safe."

"Tell me what's going on," she demanded quickly, her hands shaking feverishly. "What was that? What are _you_? What-"

"I'll explain later-"

"NO!" Mora shouted, taking another step further away. "Tell me now! What are you?"

"CALM DOWN!" Sirius screamed back, silencing the frantic girl. "I'm an unregistered animagi, alright?"

Mora nodded quickly. "Good, now let's get out of here before-"

A roar ripped across the grounds. Sirius jumped, his head whipping around. The wolf came back into view, heading towards him and Mora at rapid speed. James, still in his stag form, chased close by, attempting whatever he could to stop the wolf from reaching Mora and Sirius. Instinctively Sirius grabbed Mora, pushing her behind him, and Mora clung onto him for dear life. The sun began to inch its way across the sky, bringing the grounds into light. Moony sprinted even harder, determined to pounce the couple.

Sirius' grey eyes loomed to the sky. In a second or so, it would be morning. And that little change would save him, but destroy part of Reamus. Sirius watched as the wolf crashed to the ground, only a leap away from reaching them. The wolf screamed in pain as the glow of the early sun reached him.

_She can't know! SHE CAN'T KNOW!_

Quickly Sirius spun around, facing Mora. He had no plan, no idea how he would go about keeping Mora from seeing the wolf morph back into what would be a very tired Reamus. All he knew was somehow Sirius needed to do it. In a last desperate attempt, Sirius raised a single hand and covered Mora's eyes.

"Sirius? What the hell are you doing!" Mora shouted as she struggled against Sirius. He held her back, trying to pin both her arms down with his one free one. "Sorry about this Sirius..." Mora said quickly. With one burst of strength Mora broke free of him. He came towards her again, and instinctively Mora raised her fist, the harsh sound of it colliding with Sirius' nose cracking through the air.

Mora watched he fell to the ground. She had no idea what was going on, how on earth Sirius could be an animagi, or what that thing inches away was. But at that very moment, Mora trusted no one, not even Sirius.

As Sirius groaned on the ground, clutching his face, Mora turned to see the terrorizing wolf, howling in pain. But the wolf didn't look at all the way it had moments ago. The fur began to shrink away, leaving exposed skin. The snout writhed back into its face, the tail faded away. The wolf's sharp claws no longer stretched from its massive paws, and its canine teeth two seemed to stretch and shrink.

Letting out one last scream, it laid across the grass, illuminated by the risen sun. But it no longer resembled a wolf, not in the least. Instead, a person lay in its place, their clothes torn and tattered, long scratches and scars stretching across their face. Mora fell to her knees beside the person, overwhelmed with tears. She cradled him in her arms as she sobbed loudly.

"Reamus..."


	17. Done and Undone

17. Done and Undone

"For the last time, just drink it!" Madame Garrah pleaded with the stubborn student as she pushed the goblet in front of his face.

"And I told you, I'm no drinking that poison!" Reamus Lupin smeared back, increasingly losing his patience. "The last time you made me swallow that stuff my head was stuck in the toilet for over an hour!"

"Fine!" Madame Garrah surrendered, angrily placing the goblet on his bed side table, purple droplets sloshing over the edge. "I'm getting too old for this..." she grumbled as she stormed away, locking herself in her office.

Reamus sighed as he lowered his head harshly into his pillow. The hospital wing was vacant, the eerie silence not at all soothing to him. He had been awake a grand total of two minutes, and already the old woman tried to shove that glop down his throat. Every single time he ended up here she'd always find a reason to force feed it to him.

"Look who finally made it!" Reamus exclaimed as James slowly strolled into the hospital wing. James trudged closer, his hair askew, his hands shoveled in his pockets, and his eyes cast to his shoes. This surprised Reamus unpleasantly. Usually if Reamus ever had a night bad enough to end with him locked up in this place, one of his friends would be there, cheeriness and smiles to annoyingly cheer him up.

But now, James' attitude was completely different. "Prongs? Is everything okay?"

James did not reply, instead he pulled a chair besides Reamus' bed. He sat down, sighing deeply and pulling a hand through his mat of ruly black hair. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. Furthermore, if it had been a night that landed Reamus in the infirmary, Reamus wondered if anyone else had been hurt as well. And James' strange presence proved it.

"Oh Merlin," Reamus muttered. "Who was it? Who did I hurt? JAMES!"

"Calm down," James choked out quickly. "We're fine, we're all fine, me and Padfoot and Wormtail."

"Then what's going on? What happened? God, James..." Reamus stammered on, his voice straining through his weakness, "What did I do?"

"Relax, you didn't hurt anyone," James assured.

"Then what the hell happened last night?" Reamus asked again, his tone growing frantic.

James shook his head, burring his face in his hands. "Alright..." James said as he dropped his hands. "Last night, you managed to get out of the shack and back out the tunnel-"

"Oh Merlin..." Reamus mumbled.

"I know, we messed up..." James said lowly. "I'm sorry, Reamus. So sorry..."

"What did I do?" Reamus asked as his eyes loomed off into space.

"Nothing!" James insisted once again. "Sure, you roamed around, screamed your head off. But-" James stopped, trying to gain some sense of composure, in some hope it would help give Reamus this news. "Someone else was out there."

Reamus felt his heart sink in his chest. _Someone knows_... he thought as he went completely numb.

_They know what you are._

"You didn't hurt her, don't worry. She's fine, just a bit shaken up, is all," James explained.

"Who was it then?" Reamus asked softly. "Who knows?"

James swallowed done, his eyes wandering away from Reamus.

"WHO KNOWS?" Reamus shouted.

"Mora!" James yelped back immediately as Reamus grew silent. James rubbed his eyes sourly. "It was Mora, Reamus."

Reamus sunk back down into his bed, breath caught in his throat. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he couldn't do anything but see the scene play again over and over in his mind. He could see Mora's horrified face, her screams as he chased her, nearly kill her. Of course Reamus couldn't actually remember what happened, but he was left to imagine. Imagine what he had done.

The reality of his curse was something Reamus strived to avoid. But every time he thought he may actually be happy for even a second, the full moon snuck up on him, revealing Reamus for what he truly was.

And for all this time, Reamus actually thought he could be happy. Mora sort of fell into his life, and she turned out to be one of the best people he had ever known. They became so close so quickly, it seemed to good to be true. He even consoled in her about Emmeline, something he hadn't even discussed with Sirius, Peter, or Lily for that matter. Reamus never expected anyone to be so kind to him, but he was proved wrong the day Mora oh so gracefully came to his rescue, kicking some Slytherin arse across the castle.

_Your knight in shining armor,_ Mora called herself, much to Reamus' amusement.

But now everything changed forever. Mora stumbled upon the dark truth, and now all there was left for her to do was shun Reamus away. To protect herself from him, from the horror he brought upon the people in his life.

Reamus knew Mora would never be able to look at Reamus again. Whenever she would hear his name, remember him, all Mora would see would be that night, that terror he inflicted upon her. His true form, his life as the werewolf. How could she ever trust him, accept him again? She had only known him two months, how would she ever understand this all? Reamus had known Lily and Emmeline for years and he never spoke a word of it to either of them.

"She wants to see you, mate..." James said softly.

_To do what? To tell me off? To say goodbye? _Reamus wondered as his chestnut eyes began to swell. He clenched them open and shut quickly, quenching away his weakness. "What good can come from that?" he said, his voice hoarse and low.

"Just give her a chance, Moony," James said. "Please, just talk to her."

"I can't!" Reamus snapped back, his voice cracking unexpectedly. "I just can't."

"I don't think she's going to take no for an answer," James replied honestly, "You know Mora."

"But she doesn't know me anymore," Reamus said. "Just leave me alone for awhile," Reamus mumbled as he buried his face in his pillow.

Regretfully, James rose from his seat. "Alright, I'll go. But I'm sending Mora in."

"Don't you dare," Reamus snapped back. "Don't ever make her look at me ever again."

"No one is making her, Moony. She's been begging to see you since we got her back in this bloody castle!"

"Well it's a mistake," Reamus responded quickly.

James walked back to Reamus, frustration growing inside him. "You're willing to throw your entire friendship with Mora away, because of what? This?"

"For the last time, GET OUT!"

"What's going on here?" the frail Madame Garrah boomed as she hurried from her office. "You, out! Stop upsetting the patient and get out, now!"

As Madame Garrah shooed James away, Reamus rolled to his side, burring his face in his hands.

The sun shine faded away in the windows of the hospital wing, a heavy blanket of storms sweeping across the grounds. Rain pelted the castle, the hollow sound of the streams of rain filling the empty hospital wing. Reamus simply lay there, seemingly emotionless, as he had for hours now. He felt nothing, he said nothing, he did nothing. All he did was wait for a miracle, that the grief and the guilt would somehow slide off him, that his burden would be diminished.

Reamus heard the door to the infirmary squeak open, followed by the light noise of feet slowly walking towards him. The feet suddenly stopped, as if the person were deliberated whether to go on or not. After several, unbearable moments, the noise returned, followed by the light breathing coming closer and closer.

The noise stopped, replaced by the screech of a chair being pulled along the floor. "Reamus..."

Reamus turned abruptly in his bed, catching sight of the last person he was ready to see. But, there she was, same blue eyes, same face, same Mora Ashford. Yet her smile faded away, leaving an expression of concern. "Hey there sleepy head," Mora said lightly.

"What are you doing here?" Reamus asked dryly, not looking Mora in the eye.

"What do you mean _what am I doing here_? I came to see you," Mora replied.

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Because you're my mate, Reamus Lupin," Mora answered immediately, her eyes softened and warm as she looked to her friend. "My friend."

"Friend?" Reamus snorted. "Some friend I am. I almost-" Reamus stopped himself, stopping his sarcastic smear. Reamus dropped his voice, "I could have killed you last night, Mora."

"But you didn't!" Mora cried back. "You didn't. I'm fine, you-"

"It doesn't mean it won't happen again!" Reamus jumped in. "Merlin, Mora, what's gotten in your head? I'm a w...a werewolf Mora."

Yes, she knew. Sirius and the others had told her everything mere hours ago. How Reamus lived as a werewolf for years now, how he had been bitten as a child. And how they now accompanied Reamus every month as he transformed, ready to protect him from his own fury. And Mora understood, to everyone's surprise. She knew what it was like to have a life forced upon you, to have a disorder of kinds that you and only you live with. Mora could admit she hardly knew what being a werewolf truly meant, but then again she still did not understand what being a Temparious truly held either.

"That doesn't mean you can't live your life, Reamus," Mora pleaded.

"That's exactly what it means," Reamus cited.

"And why? Why punish yourself for something that's not your fault?" Mora accused.

"Why?" Reamus echoed. "Because imagine opening yourself to people, caring about them, letting them into your life. And then once a month you run the risk of hurting them, ripping them to pieces without even realizing what you're doing. I nearly killed you, Mora, who's to say that can't happen again? The guys put themselves in danger for me in every transformation, what happens the night I get so out of control they can't stop me?"

"It's a risk we're willing to take," Mora cut in.

"Well that's not something I'm going to let you, or anyone else do!" Reamus admitted. "Not you, or anyone else. I could never tie anyone down like that, trap them in a life where once a month I become the monster I truly am."

"You are _not_ a monster," Mora insisted strongly. "You are the kindest and most gentle person I have ever known."

"Really?" Reamus interjected angrily. "Whatever I may seem like when I look like, well, normal, that's not me. I am the wolf, and nothing anyone can say or do can change that. You asked me why I could never tell Emmeline how I feel about her. Well, now you know why. I could never expect her to be with a monster."

Mora swallowed hard as she store straight into Reamus' deep brown eyes. They were pained, which frightened Mora the most. "Listen to me, and you listen good," Mora started, her tone much darker than expected. "And I swear to Merlin if you interrupt me for even a second I'll hex you into the next century. You hear?"

Reamus said nothing, but simply store back to Mora in surprise.

"Good," Mora affirmed. "Now, I'm going to tell you something, something I vowed never to speak a word of, to anyone. And I promise you, you will never look at me the same way ever again. But first, I just need to know, do you trust me?"

Reamus sat there bewildered for a few moments, before sounding softly, "I trust you, Mora."

Mora nodded, smiling even if for just a brief portion of a second. "Good. Now, I only see it fair, if I know your biggest secret, you have the right to know mine."

Mora took a deep breath in. Was she truly ready to do this? For the first time, reveal to someone her secret? Tell them how she truly came to be here, about Tom? She could never be sure. All Mora had to was to go with her heart, and her gut.

_You're ready..._ something deep inside her urged. _You're ready._

"This is why I know you are no monster, Reamus. Not even close in the least. Because I have known a true monster, the worst of them all. And I don't mean I just know his name, or made his acquaintance. I truly know him...well, _knew_ him. I loved him, I was with him, until everything was destroyed.

"You are nothing like him, Reamus. Because I'm going to tell you about the last person you would expect. I'm going to tell you what happened between me, and Voldemort."


	18. Proof

18. Proof

"Hurry," Mora said behind her shoulder to the trailing Reamus. It had taken a lot of effort, but Mora managed to successfully have Reamus released from Madame Garrah's clutches, and get him out of the hospital wing. The two rushed down the grounds, with a familiar location in mind.

Mora had done the unthinkable. To Reamus she had confessed the truth, she told him about the one person Mora had once vowed to forget. She told him about Mora Cartea.

Mora's plagued life as a Temparious, how she truly came to Hogwarts in what had been the nine teen forties. She told him about Mora Cartea's family, how her sister, her brothers, and her father had all given up their lives in an attempt to save her. She admitted to Mora Cartea's existence in Slytherin, how the only person she thought she could ever trust had been a lone orphan of sixteen, Tom Riddle. She divulged how she and Tom grew closer and closer, until they fell in love. She told him what Tom had done right under her nose, and ultimately the day Tom now remembered as the day Mora Cartea died.

All the pain, the unwanted memories, and the unanswered questions poured out of Mora into one, mind blowing tale. And Reamus had reacted, not as running as fast as he could in the opposite directions as Mora expected, yet entirely different.

He simply did not believe her.

No matter what Mora said, Reamus would not accept it as the truth. Everything she said he denied, claimed that there was no way she could be right. Of course Mora couldn't blame Reamus. It had been a painfully long day for Reamus, exhausting every last of his emotions. Mora knew that forcing all of this upon him at once would not be a pretty sight, and it certainly was not. Reamus demanded proof, proof that Mora truly was a Temparious, that she had lived such a life, that she survived such an ordeal.

And Mora fully intended on giving Reamus what he needed.

"Nearly there," Mora said as Reamus caught up to her. The stood atop the hill, staring off into the distance at the Whomping Willow. Its branches swung dangerously in the air, threatening anyone who dared to come near.

_Some things never change..._ Mora thought to herself.

"There? What you want to show me..." Reamus stammered on, "There can't possibly be anything at all..."

"Well, come on then!" Mora said quickly as she sprinted down the hill, leaving Reamus once again to catch up. She went on with this pace until the stood meters away from the tree, and to Reamus, meters away from their death.

"Let me," he said, pulling out his wand with full intention of bewitching its deadly limbs.

"There's no need for that," Mora said as she lowered Reamus' arm. Reamus looked back to her, confusion overtaking his features. "Just wait here."

With that, Mora started towards the tree, her steps slow and thoughtful. "Mora? Are you bloody crazy?" Reamus called to her.

But Reamus simply could not believe his eyes. At the very moment the tree should have thrown Mora straight over the castle, the branches soared into the air, almost gracefully, clearing the way for her. Mora turned around, looking back to Reamus, who stood there in awe. Mora outstretched her hand, beckoning Reamus to join her.

Cautiously, Reamus moved forward, his feet barely moving against the hard ground. With each step his fear lessened and lessened, convinced that just maybe Mora really did have some strange hold over this tree as she had claimed. He reached Mora, his hands still shaking.

Slowly, Mora lead him to the base of the tree, to the spot she had slept the night prior. "See what it is," Mora said as she lead Reamus off to the stone. Carefully, Reamus left Mora's side, coming besides the grave.

"Mora Cartea..." Reamus echoed to himself, his hand resting upon the stone. "It's...it just can't be."

"Do you believe me now?" Mora asked softly, coming to Reamus' side. Reamus remained silent, simply transfixed by the stone, the evidence he wanted-needed to see. "This is why I was here last night, I wanted to see it again...I don't know why."

"So..." Reamus whispered to himself. "So, it's true then, all of it..."

"It seems fantastic, how one person can be so blind," Mora went on, choking back tears she had so successfully avoided this entire day. "So oblivious to everything around her, to him..."

"No Mora, not stupid," Reamus said quickly, turning back to her. "Don't ever say that about yourself. Some things...some things we just can't control. I should know, that's my entire life."

"But there's a difference, Reamus," Mora argued. "You have no fault in being a werewolf. You didn't choose it, you don't want it, and you can fight it. Me, I'm different. I choose to trust Tom; I choose to be with him, to love him-"

"You have no control over who you fall in love with, Mora," Reamus reassured. "And you had no control over what he did."

"It doesn't matter that I couldn't stop it," Mora choked. "The fact is it was there, for the world to see, and I was so bloody crazy for him even I couldn't fathom it. "

Mora looked back to the grave plaque, her eyes resting upon the dates. "And here I am now, left to hide the truth to save my own life," Mora said as she began to shake her head slightly, "Some times I get these feelings, I tell myself it would be easier if I stopped hiding, if I revealed myself for To- _Voldemort_ to see. To just let him kill me, and free James and Dumbledore from my mess."

"Don't ever say that," Reamus said quickly as Mora wiped her eyes. Noticing her strong front start to fade away, Reamus pulled Mora into an embrace.

"You wanted me to abandon you, because you thought what you were could get me hurt," Mora said softly. "But now you know, if you don't abandon me, you could get killed."

"I guess you're right then," Reamus sighed. "I guess there are some risks worth taking."

Mora smiled weakly, "Why are you so..." she started, poking him playfully in the ribs. "So bloody great?"

"You accepted me," Reamus said softly. "And I can accept you."

Mora and Reamus trudged back to the castle, mud clinging to their cloaks and shoes, a light drizzle falling from the sky. Mora never truly understood what a remarkable person Reamus Lupin was. All he ever lived for was to do what was best for others, to protect his loved ones, to make sure they were well and happy. Reamus always put everyone else first.

Mora too remembered a time where that had ruled her existence. She had lived to make another happy, she strived for Tom's sake and only for Tom. It was only after they separated that Mora finally saw what she did to herself. How her own neglect hurt her the most, maybe even more than Tom had. Mora started caring for herself, but now Mora could see, it was safe to let others care about her as well.

Mora knew that she needed Reamus to somehow survive through this all, and that he needed Mora as well. It was in some strange, ironic crossing of paths that brought to two together. They shared the same burden, yet their curses were completely different. They felt the same pain, the same guilt and horror each time their lives took a sharp turn for the worst, and the same unwilling uncertainty the moment happiness surprised them for even a moment.

Mora Cartea, or Mora Ashford, whatever one preferred to call her, and Reamus Lupin were a unique match, and their friendship strengthen to unimaginable measures.


	19. The Battle Rages On

19. The Battle Rages On

_Tap._

Mora groaned inwardly at the little sound, but she continued to scribble notes over her herd of parchment. McGonagall lectured on, dictating the class's never ending brigade of notes for the day. Mora tried her best to write out as much information as she possibly could, yet a little noise beside her distracted her.

_Tap_

Mora's eyes fell harshly on Colton Bayard. His eyes were nearly closed, his head rested inside the palm of his hand. Colton always held that annoying indifference towards school in general, and during his classes he pursued one of his biggest interests: sleep. Unfortunately for Mora, one of Colton's other favorite hobbies was too annoy the life out of her each class they met.

"Bayard..." Mora hissed to the half asleep Colton. "Tap that quill one more time on this table and see what happens."

Colton jolted awake, surprised it had taken Mora so long to comment. "What? Are you going to punish me, mum?"

Mora rolled her eyes. Colton Bayard specialized in pushing Mora's buttons, doing the exact worst things in order to raise her temper up to a dangerous point. Mora wished she could brush Bayard's antics off as simply annoying, yet the memory of Eric fueled Mora further in her anger. Whenever she looked at Colton, all she saw was Eric's face, she heard Eric's laughter, and all of her emotions swelled up inside of her again.

Mora sighed softly, trying to turn her attention back to her note taking. Colton smirked, feeling as if he accomplished in his little task. Even though Mora felt the burning desire to smack Bayard's face in, she didn't. Colton always wore that smug little satisfaction, always assured he could get under Mora's skin. But Mora knew Colton had no idea why she truly loathed him the way she did. Mora knew Colton had no idea who she was, or what how his own father remembered her.

Those memories, Mora hoped, had faded away, and the rumors died as Mora Cartea had that June morning.

_Tap. Tap._

Mora felt the urge to curse Colton before the entire class. Taking in a deep breath, she drew her wand out of her robes, and in on swift motion she cast a silent charm towards the direction of the noise. Mora turned her eyes back to Colton, who looked back to her with malice. His quill shrunk instantly in the palm of his hand, and by the time the transformation completed, the object was no bigger than one of his fingernails.

Mora smiled triumphantly as she stored her wand back in her pocket. "I tried to warn you."

"You think you're so clever, don't you Mora?" Colton sneered.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Mora retorted. "No, if you don't mind, shut your mouth and go back to sleep, or whatever you do during class."

"As a matter of fact," Colton snapped, mocking Mora. "I do mind."

"Well it just so happens I don't give a damn," Mora replied shortly.

Colton snickered to himself. "You get so cute when you're mad."

"Another word and I swear-"

"What, Ashford?" Colton urged on.

Mora looked back to Colton. His sickly honey eyes glared back to her, examining her peculiarly. _Just let it go, Mora..._ Mora scolded herself. _You have to pick your battles, and this just isn't one of them._

The last thing Mora wanted was to let Colton win. Even if it meant stooping to his own level. But another part of Mora, the more rational side, reminded her that if she were too fight back in such an immature manner, she would be giving in to him entirely. Mora wanted to think of Colton Bayard as a pest and nothing more. Never did she want to push herself, or Colton, to that dangerous level. The place where she and Eric somehow wound up at in a manner of moments.

"That's what I thought," Colton replied victoriously.

Mora shock her head and turned away from Colton. No, she did not want to give in to him. But for the time being, she would indulge in her anger. Just for now. Slowly, Mora moved her wand out from her pocket without Colton noticing. She held it firmly beneath the table and pointed it directly Colton's chair.

"Reducto," she whispered softly, the unseen jet of light soaring out from her wand.

"AGGMMMP!" Colton cried as his chair reduced to a pile of timber beneath him. He crashed to the ground harshly, receiving the class's full attention. A few bursts of laughter ripped through the room, yet the professor squashed them quickly.

"What happened back there?" McGonagall demanded sternly from Colton, who remained sprawled out on the floor.

"It was his chair, Professor," Mora spoke up, a hint of innocence coating her voice. "It wasn't all that stable, but after fidgeting and all, eventually it let out."

"Should keep away from those pumpkin pasties, eh Bayard?" Sirius noted from across the room.

"That is enough!" McGonagall scolded. "Mister Bayard, pull up a new seat please. And do try to keep still now."

Mora raised her hand as Colton came to his feet, staring daggers down at the girl.

"Yes, Miss Ashford?" McGonagall said as Mora lowered her hand.

"May I go to the lavatory?" she asked.

"Yes dear, go right ahead," the professor answered brightly. "Now, back to the lesson..."

Mora left the room, her head held high as she disappeared out the door. Childish as her act was, Mora felt a sense of pride swell within her. Her small battles between Colton did not always end this sweet, yet Mora refused to subdue to his capers. Mora knew, despite her want to ignore Colton, she never would be able to. So, she decided to simply get him at his own game.

"Well, well, well..." Mora heard Sirius call from down the corridor. "I have to say that was some show you put on today in dear old Minerva's class."

"What, me?" Mora answered in a sweet tone. Sirius caught up with her and the two continued down the hall. "What makes you think _I_ had anything to do with it?"

"Well, even though I don't doubt Bayard's fat arse could fall straight out of his chair," Sirius smiled, "I know only Mora Ashford could pull that off without even a hint of suspicion."

"What can I say, I have a gift," Mora replied happily. "Also I refuse to let anyone push me around."

"Now that I can remember," Sirius laughed. Mora looked back to him, confusion swelling over her face. "What? You really don't remember?"

"Does this look like a face in the know?" Mora insisted as the two rounded the corner, nearing the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

"The only time I really tried to push you around," Sirius started, "you thanked me by breaking my nose."

Mora brought a hand to her mouth, suppressing a laugh. Yes, she remembered. It was a sour memory, but now thanks to Sirius, a new light shed upon it. The night Mora discovered that Reamus was a werewolf. Sirius tried to pull Mora away, and in order to get him away from her, she gladly punched him in the face.

"In my defense I was trying to help you!" Sirius hinted.

"Yes, thanks for that Black," Mora smiled as the pair stopped before the portrait of the Fat Lady, "And sorry about smashing your face a bit."

"Eh, it really wasn't all that bad," Sirius commented, "Just a little scratch."

"Are you kidding? I nearly smacked your face off!" Mora defended. "Admit it, you get knocked out by a girl."

"You didn't knock me out!"

"Then why were you unconscious, Sirius?" Mora demanded in delight.

"I was...surprised is all," Sirius defended weakly.

Mora smiled. "Whatever you say, Black..."

"Excuse me!" the shrill voice of the Fat Lady cried from her portrait. "Are you coming in or not?"

Sirius turned his attention to the flustered lady within her frame. "My apologies, but it's not as if you're going anywhere."

The Fat Lady snorted in resentment as Sirius flashed her a grin. Quickly he blustered out the password, and the Fat Lady snapped the portal open. Mora could hear her frustrated mumblings as she and Sirius strolled through the tight corridor.

"I must say, you truly have a talent with people," Mora examined.

"I'm just so lovable," Sirius smiled as they entered the bustling common room.

Mora laughed as she headed before him, hurrying to meet up with Peter and Reamus already perched in the corner of the common room. Sirius watched Mora disappear into the room, yet he remained stuck in the entrance. He couldn't seem to pull his stormy grey eyes away from the girl. Of course, Sirius had been attracted to her since the moment Mora Ashford arrived in Gryffindor Tower back in September. Then again, Sirius was attracted to almost every and any gorgeous girl to fall into his sight.

But now, something seemed different when Sirius Black gazed upon Mora. Something else tugged at him in the back of his mind, like whenever Mora would laugh, how her giggles always brought a smile to his face. Or how Mora sometimes would accidentally drop the last word of her statements, so whatever she had just explained made absolutely no sense at all. That annoyed Sirius so much, but whenever he listened to Mora talk he seemed to drift off into his own imagination, which always consisted of nothing but her. All of Mora's quirks, whether Sirius loved them or wanted to squash her for them, always seemed to draw Sirius closer to her.

What was happening to him? Sirius Black never fell for girls. No, not him. When it came to the opposite sex, Sirius needed them, craved them, and the best part of it all was, they always came running to him. Every girl in this school melted at the sight of him. But it was never the other way around. Sirius Black never felt venerable, Sirius Black never dreamed of just one girl, Sirius Black never, ever fell for someone. Especially when he didn't even know if she felt anything at all for him.


	20. It's About Time

20. It's About Time

"Wait, here she comes," Emmeline motioned quickly as she and Mora ceased their excited whispered. The two lurked behind the entrance to the Great Hall, watching a certain pair of Gryffindors discuss something for quite a while. And by discuss, it is implied they flirted shamelessly.

"Don't look, don't look," Mora whispered quickly as she and Emmeline turned their backs on the redhead approaching them.

"Shhhh! She's coming!" Emmeline cried under her breath.

Lily Evans strode behind her two friends, a hint of suspicion floating in her green eyes. She crossed her arms stiffly over her chest as the two continued to ignore her. "Nice to see you lot too," Lily said into Emmeline's ears.

Mora and Emmeline spun around, mock surprise spreading over both faces. Mora tried her hardness to hide her grin, but it beamed from ear to ear.

"Oh Lily, we didn't see you there," Emmeline smiled as she desperately attempted to keep up the charade.

"Save it Emmy," Lily sighed to herself. "What's going on now?"

"Why makes you think anything's wrong?" Mora shrugged.

"Don't think I don't know when you two are up tp something," Lily noted as she eyed the pair. Of course Lily knew what the girls were doing there, she suspected half of Gryffindor had been watching with mouths wide open these past few minutes.

"Alright, alright," Mora surrendered. "We were just passing by, and we spotted a very unlikely couple..."

"Oh really," Lily groaned inwardly as she brought her palm up to her forehead.

Emmeline's smiled grew to a dangerous level as she continued, "Yes, a certain pair of new found friends, or could they be more?"

"Don't be ridiculous Em," Mora mocked. "Our dear Lily Evans, actually more than just civil with James Potter?"

"Well maybe she's got a soft spot for him," Emmeline jumped in quickly.

"Which she does!" Mora cried happily as Emmeline squealed.

"Would you two keep it down!" Lily snapped quickly as she shushed her bubbling friends.

"Why?" Mora asked as Lily's cheeks grew bright crimson. "Because you admit that you have feelings for-"

"I don't have feelings for James!" Lily defended automatically.

"James? Not Potter, like you've called him for the past six years," Emmeline pointed out. "You're crazy for him!"

"I am not!" Lily persisted. "We're just friends!"

"That looked like a bit more than _just friends_," Mora noted.

"So where are you two going tonight?" Emmeline asked before she could stop herself.

"You two were eavesdropping?" Lily accused through her frustration.

Mora and Emmeline shared a look slowly, both their eyes bulging out of their heads.

"Of course."

"Duh!"

"What did you expect?"

"Seriously Lil..."

Lily shook her head. "Why do I even bother with you two..."

"She admits it!" Mora squealed.

"So then, where are you two going?" Emmeline interrogated again.

"NOWHERE!" Lily moaned loudly. "He just...I... I'm just going to help him...study."

"Lily," Emmeline soothed. "You know that's an invitation to shag him, right?"

"Emmeline Janet Taylor!" Lily scolded loudly. "I will not be shagging anyone, thank you! And that is not what Potter, _James_, meant at all! He having difficulties in charms, and _I_ am the one who offered to help him."

"So what do you think it meant?" Mora smiled. "You honestly think James Potter cares that much about school that he would take to opportunity, alone with you, to just...study?"

Lily blushed ever harder, her entire face bright pink. "I-It's possible."

"Not in a million years my dear," Mora laughed.

"And you knew that!" Emmeline added heartily. "You knew that and you still said yes! OOOO! You fancy him! You fancy Potter!"

"Emmy!" Lily screeched as she clamped a hand over her best mate's mouth. "Fine! FINE! I admit it! I..._I_... fancy James Potter."

Now, other students at Hogwarts could honestly day that those very words coming from Lily Evan's mouth, the words she always vowed never to ever think, was the start of the apocalypse. That the day Lily tolerated and even like James Potter, the sun would explode, oceans would swallow the earth, and meteors would destroy the planet. After six years of adoration, of nagging and wishing, of scheming, James managed to get even a glimpse of what he always wanted, a chance at the girl of his dreams.

What was happening on that day? Rumors spread like wildfire of Lily simply cave after years of frustration, or of James somehow spiking Lily's pumpkin juice that morning with a special love potion. Whatever the gossip claimed as the truth, Mora saw what really happened that day in the Great Hall.

They were growing up.

"Finally!" Emmeline announced proudly, shaking Lily's hand away.

"C'mon then!" Mora started as she tugged the two girls into the corridor. "We have to get you ready, and we only have about four hours!"

"Fine," Lily smiled weakly. "But I'm not shagging him or anything remotely like that," she affirmed, and shortly after made a short _ewww_ sound. "Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Emmeline finished. "And I have to say Lil...it's about time!"

The sound of the crackling fire roared lightly through the nearly empty Gryffindor common room. All others abandoned it for their dormitories for the evening, all except for the small gaggle of seventh years. Usually, their meeting would be eyed a suspicious, outsiders assumed the group were planning another prank or waiting for one of their schemes to unfold. Yet tonight was different. The small group, surprisingly enough, were not stirring up mayhem or plotting chaos. Instead, the five friends sat by the fire, awaiting a certain pair to reappear before sunrise.

_Waiting for own Cinderella and his beautiful redheaded knight in shining armor to return_, Sirius thought to himself. Sirius as well as Moony, Wormtail, Mora, and Emmeline stayed up that night, as they usually would on a Friday evening, but tonight they waited for James and Lily to return from their first date.

_A day I thought I'd never live to see..._ Sirius mused.

Yes, after that day in the Great Hall Lily offered to help him _study_, the two always seemed to be hidden somewhere in the castle, and Sirius knew there was no way all that was on their minds was books and homework. And three short weeks later, James decided to ask Lily on a date, one last time. And, finally after all these years, she agreed.

James went all out for the occasion as well. After all, if Prongs messed this up, as he feared he may, this would be his only shot at Lily Evans. What James set up in the Room of Requirement that night, Sirius hadn't the faintest idea, yet the couple hadn't been seen since eight that evening.

_So either it's going well_, Sirius weighed in his mind, _Or Lily killed him and is hiding the body right this moment._

"What time is it now?" Peter moaned, his eyes drooping in exhaustion and his voice airy.

"It is now..." Reamus started, his eyes focusing onto his wristwatch, "Two thirty seven, Wormtail. Exactly four minutes since you last asked."

"Peter," Emmeline urged softly from her spot on the couch, her head resting on Reamus' shoulder, "If you're that tired you should just go to bed."

"No, no I'm fine," Peter reassured quickly as his words extended into a loud yawn.

"At this rate I think those two got lost out there," Sirius noted dully, his back leaned against the front of the armchair, his legs stretching across the floor. "Or they're getting at it in the forest right now."

"Ewwww! Sirius!" Emmeline shrieked as she tossed a pillow roughly at his head.

"What, the pristine Miss Taylor doesn't like thinking about her mates shagging?" Sirius smirked as Emmeline cringed again.

"No, I don't like hearing _you_ talk about anything like that," Emmeline argued. "And unlike you, Padfoot, I don't think Lily would put out on the first date."

"I can't believe she said yes," Reamus thought aloud. "After all these years..."

"Well, did you really expect them to stay _study buddies_?" Emmeline replied. "If you're really meant for someone and you know it, they'll find their way back to you."

Sirius smiled as he saw Reamus' face grow a nice pink shade. If only Emmeline knew how much Reamus cared for her, then maybe Sirius and the others would be awaiting them to return from a late night meeting one day.

_That is, if Reamus ever tells Emmy, which is as likely as me asking Snivellus out_... Sirius thought. Reamus was dead set on hiding from his feelings at all costs. He convinced himself he could never be anything with Emmeline, that his being a werewolf meant he couldn't be happy. Reamus thought he needed to protect everyone from his self, but Sirius wished he could smack some sense into his friend.

But, now that James and Lily found their way to each other, Sirius smiled to himself. Anything was possible now. For Reamus and Emmeline, but also for himself. For whatever feelings had forged their way inside him, for his secret thoughts of Mora that had sneaked under his skin.

_Anything is possible, Black_... Sirius thought to himself as he leaned back softly.

"I think we've lost one guys," Reamus hinted as he pointed to the occupant of the armchair. Sirius swung around, a small smile stretching across his face. Mora slept curled up in a small ball on the chair, her head snuggled against the plush surface. She breathed deeply, her body softly moving up and down .

"Does that mean I can go to bed now?" Peter asked meekly as he caught sight of Mora.

"Yes, Peter!" Emmeline reassured. "Go!"

Peter bid his goodnights before scurrying up the stairs to the dormitories and out of sight. Sirius rose to his feet, looking down at Mora's peaceful form. "Well, can't leave her down here," Sirius whispered as he scooped the girl into his arms lightly.

"Sirius! You'll wake her up!" Reamus scolded suddenly.

"Nah, see?" Sirius smiled, Mora snoring lightly in his grasp. "I'll take her to bed, be back in a bit."

"Don't rape her now, you hear?" Emmeline warned as Sirius made his way up the stairs still cradling Mora.

"Can't make any promises!" Sirius called back jokingly. Slowly, Sirius reached the door to the seventh year girl's dormitory, after climbing what felt like a ridiculous amount of stairs. _Well, Black, you've never gone this high up these stairs with a girl in your arms, now have you?_

Quietly, Sirius nudged open the door and crept inside. The remainder of the Gryffindor girls slept soundlessly in their beds. He tip-toed his way across the floor towards Mora's bed. _Of course, Sirius Black being caught in the girl's dorm past midnight would not be a good thing_ Sirius reasoned.

Carefully, Sirius lowered Mora onto her bed, cautious not to place her in a way he might wake her. In her slumber Mora nuzzled into her pillow, causing Sirius to smile. He lightly pulled the covers over her up to her neck. He felt entranced as he store at her through the darkness.

_Snap out of it Black!_ Sirius' brain shouted. _Since when do you look at any girl like that?_

But Mora wasn't simply _any girl_ to Sirius. She was much more than he was willing to believe. Quickly, Sirius fled the dormitory, shutting the door lightly behind him. He ascended back into the common room, only to find that both Reamus and Emmeline had drifted off to sleep. Emmeline rested over Reamus as the two breathed together in rhythm. Sirius' grin grew at the sight of the two.

Maybe Emmeline had been right, maybe the person you're mean to be with does find you in the end. Yet Sirius did not have a clear answer to this idea tonight. Soon he too fell victim to exhaustion, leaving none to greet the ecstatic James Potter and Lily Evans as they eventually returned to Gryffindor Tower. All questions and accusations would simply have to wait until morning.


	21. Confessions and Announcements

21. Confessions and Announcements

Mora awoke the next morning to the horribly loud screeches of her roommates. She sprung forward in her bed, startled at all the commotion. Mora rubbed her eyes quickly, unappreciative of the blaring sunshine beaming through the window.

"Look who's finally up!" Emmeline smiled as Mora spotted her perched besides Lily's bed. Lily hadn't even the chance to brush her teeth that morning before her friend bombarded her with excited questions.

"Think we can keep the screaming down to a minimum next time someone's sleeping?" Mora moaned as she hobbled out of bed, still in her clothes from the previous night, as was Emmeline.

"Coming from the girl who snores like a hippogriff?" Lily commented as Mora snorted.

"So, can we get back to what happened last night?" Emmeline squeaked.

"Merlin, Emmy for the last time, nothing!" Lily replied strongly as Mora plopped down on the foot of the redhead's bed.

"Staying out all night isn't exactly _nothing_," Mora said.

"We weren't out _all_ night," Lily defended, although her efforts are in vain.

"Then when did you get in?" Mora asked immediately.

"Three-thirty..." Lily mumbled out as Emmeline squealed in delight.

"Well c'mon! Tell us what happened!" Mora urged happily as Emmeline joined them on the bed.

"Nothing like that!" Lily advocated. "We had dinner, and then we just talked, is all." Lily's once secretive exterior came crashing down, her need to confess to her two best friends overtaking her. "And it was amazing!"

Mora and Emmeline laughed alongside Lily. "I've never really just talked with anyone like I can with James," Lily went on. "Just about _everything_. I've never had anything like that before!"

_Neither have I..._ Mora thought solemnly as long ignored memories of her first love replayed in her mind. She pushed the ugly scenes out of her mind, returning her energy to Lily.

"And then..."

"And then what!" Emmeline gripped. "What happened?"

"We kissed."

"Thank Merlin!" Mora cried happily as Emmeline screamed even louder.

"Am I overreacting?" Lily said quickly, her expression dropping and her nervous ranting picking up again. "I mean, we aren't official or anything. Should I be looking into this so much? I mean, what if-"

"Calm down Lily!" Mora interjected. "Trust me, James is just as excited as you are right now. He's probably running up and down the halls of Hogwarts screaming out the news."

Little did the girls know that was exactly what James Potter was doing.

"I KISSED LILY EVANS!" James thundered as he shot down the winding second story corridor, nearly crashing into a horde of Ravenclaws in the process. "I KISSED HER! AND IT WAS BLOODY BRILLANT!"

"Prongs! Slow down!" Reamus shouted as he, Sirius, and Peter chased after their lovesick companion.

"Hey Snape!" James cried joyously at the sight of the Slytherin. "You're ugly! AND I KISSED LILY EVANS!" He then bolted away, smiling and laughing, leaving Severus to gawk behind him, completely and utterly confused at what had gotten into the boy's head.

"James bloody Potter! WAIT UP!" Sirius yelled as they rounded another corner.

"I KISSED HER!"

"Oh Merlin, I know how to end this," Reamus muttered as he halted in the middle of the hallway, Sirius and Peter crashing behind him. "HEY JAMES!" Reamus yelled down to his friend. "Look! It's Lily!"

_Bingo_! Reamus thought triumphantly as James stopped dead in his tracks. He spun around, running straight for Reamus and the others. "Where? Where!" James cried out as he reached them. Before he could react, Reamus and Sirius grabbed hold of James' arms, dragging him out of the corridor.

"We know you did, Prongs!" Peter said as James was heaved into another empty hallway. "But you didn't need to run up to Slughorn and scream it in his face!"

"Or the rest of the school for that matter," Sirius added.

"Oh, I don't care!" James beamed. "I kissed-"

"WE KNOW!" the three of you shouted at James' announcement.

"Eh, when you three find someone, you'll understand," James smiled, his voice back to a regular tone.

"Understand that we'll act like complete idiots?" Reamus asked.

"Exactly," James resounded. "You should try it sometime, Moony, it's great. Besides, it's better than whatever you're doing."

"Can we not discuss my love life, or lack thereof?" Reamus grumbled.

"Fine, fine," James sighed. "Let's stick to mine, shall we?"

Before the others could catch him, James set off down the corridor, heading in the direction of the Great Hall.

"I KISSED HER!"

"Here we go again," Sirius mumbled as they took off again after him."POTTER! Get back here or you'll never be able to kiss her again! Or do anything else with her for that matter!"

From that morning on, James Potter and Lily Evans became the talk of Hogwarts. Rumors continued to swell about the couple, but one factor rang true in each story: they were hardly ever seen without the other.

Reamus still remembered the day James first set eyes on Lily, the day they all had met each other for the first time. The small gaggle of first years each set off separately from their own homes, their own families biding them farewell for the first time, yet the all managed to find each other that day on the Hogwarts Express.

"Any room in here?" a small little boy asked as he peeked his head into the last compartment.

"Sure there is," a smiling brunette greeted as she pulled the young Reamus Lupin into the train car. The seats were nearly full, three new students already occupying them as well as their luggage.

"I'm Emmeline Taylor," the girl said warmly as she and Reamus sat down beside one another. "And that there's Peter," she pointed to the boy sitting across from Reamus. He waved back nervously, the stout boy with his brown hair sticking up all over his head as if it hadn't been touched his entire life.

"And that's the...erm," Emmeline stammered, pointing to the last boy in the compartment. He leaned against the window, his black hair and grey eyes standing out against all of the brunettes. "That's the loud one."

"Sirius Black," the boy finished. "Thanks so much for the introduction." 

"Any time mate!" Emmeline replied immediately.

Reamus turned suddenly to the door as it swung open, a very flustered readjusting his glasses as he entered their compartment.

"What took you so long, Potter?" Sirius asked as the new boy slumped down onto the seat.

"Chasing after that redhead girl," he responded.

"You even know what her name is?" Sirius questioned as his companion sighed.

"No clue," James answered. "But it seems like she sure doesn't want to hear my name again."

"Geez, what did you do?" Emmeline asked eagerly.

"Nothing! I just ran into her," he explained innocently. "Well, when I say ran over, means I knocked her over and decided to have a very one sided conversation still on the ground."

"Way to make a first impression on the girl, mate," Sirius smiled.

"The year has just begun, Black. Who knows, maybe she and me will get along famously." James' hazel eyes fell upon Reamus, having not noticed his presence until that moment.

"Sorry, I'm James," he greeted.

"Lady's man extrondinare," Peter joked.

"Reamus Lupin," Reamus replied.

"Reamus..." Sirius thought aloud. "That's a funny name."

"Are you being serious, _Sirius_?" Emmeline jumped in.

"Point taken," Sirius said.

"Poor kids, probably thinks we're off the wall a bit, Sirius" James smiled as he and his good friend laughed.

"Understatement of the year," the petite Emmeline mumbled as Peter laughed again, this time until it developed into a snort, which caused the rest of the compartment to burst into laughter.

Reamus laughed as he thought about that day. More than six years had passed since their first meeting, but Reamus could see distinct and alike their present selves they were to those eleven year old kids in his memories.

_I guess some things never change_ Reamus thought to himself. But Reamus prayed that the saying remained true. They were growing up now, and things written in stone already began to change. What would happen once the Marauders graduated? Would they remain as loyal as ever? Would they grow apart?

Reamus shooed the tormenting ideas away. There was no way for him to predict the future, and Reamus decided he would not bother himself with trying.


	22. An Early Christmas

22. An Early Christmas

"Mora!" Hagrid smiled brightly as he caught sight of the beaming brunette on his doorstep. Snow fell lightly from the gray sky, much of it dusting open Mora's robes and throughout her chestnut locks. "Come in 'ere!"

"Hi Hagrid," she greeted as she stepped inside the small cottage, escaping the cruel December wind. She pulled a large package out from her robes, extending it to her friend. "Happy early Christmas!"

"Oh, Mora, I can't accept this..." Hagrid trailed off as his eyes swelled at the sight of the gift.

"You can, and you will," Mora replied shortly as she placed the gift upon the surface of the titled wooden table. "C'mon, open it!"

Hagrid sat down at the table beside Mora, taking the rectangular present within the palm of his hands. "Mora, I..."

"Go on! Open it!" she beamed. "It's nothing special, but, well...just open it."

Hagrid smiled, and with one gesture he tore off the bright orange wrapping paper. His grin engrossed his entire face as he soaked in the gift in his hands. The thick book rested in his enormous hands, the bright emerald letters shimmering on the front cover. "Isaiah and Gavin Wycoff are proud ter present," he read off the book, "The Complete Lexicon of Dragons."

"Do you like it?" Mora asked nervously.

"Like it?" Hagrid asked eagerly, his eyes bulging out of his head in excitement. "Mora, where on earth did yer find this!"

"Well, I knew you wanted it, even though you'd never admit it" Mora said, "So, I found it."

"How could I ever repay yer?" Hagrid asked warmly as he outstretched his hand on the table.

Mora smiled back to her friend, taking his hand in her own. "You already have."

Hagrid laughed heartily as he squeezed her hand. "Where would I be with yer?"

"Hopelessly lost, no doubt," Mora joked playfully as they dropped hands. Mora knew Hagrid was never one for materialistic things, but she had never seen him so pleased as when he set eyes on the giant book.

"Let me get us some tea," he smiled, rising from the table and hurrying over to the large stove. "So," he called back to Mora, who remained at the table. "Have yer decided where you'll be fer Christmas?"

Mora groaned. "Not a clue," Mora sighed as Hagrid returned to the table, two steaming mugs in each hand. He handed one to Mora, who thanked him before taking a giant gulp of the liquid.

"Didn't James ask ye if you'd go with him to be with his family fer the holiday?" Hagrid asked between gulps.

"That's just it," Mora said, "I have to tell him I can't go."

"Now why on earth would yer do that?"

"Because," Mora sputtered out, "I would be intruding on him and his family! And on Christmas? That's completely inappropriate!"

"What's so inappropriate about it?" Hagrid replied, placing his mug down on the table. "He's yer friend, and I hear his parents are some of the nicest folks-"

"I have no right to take advantage of their hospitality!" Mora fired back. "James had already done so much for me, has to deal with my mess of a life without a choice. Christmas is the chance for everyone to get away from everything so hectic about Hogwarts for a week, why shouldn't James get that chance as well, instead of having to watch after me, _again_?"

"First off," Hagrid began. "Yer not some burden that James has to deal with, so stop sayin' that! He's yer friend, and he just wants yer to be happy at Christmas. And you honestly think you'll have fun locked up in there with the staff and about three kids in that there castle?"

"I know, I know!" Mora sighed loudly. "But I just feel so bad about it all!"

"Well don't silly!" Hagrid laughed. "There's nothing to feel bad about! Just go with him and have fun. It's Christmas after all! Yer supposed to have fun, Mora. So don't beat yerself up over it."

"Fine! I'll go with James," Mora agreed. "After all, it may get ugly. A full week away from Lily could quite possibly kill him."

"Well, you'll have Sirius there to ter make sure James doesn't jump off the roof," Hagrid added.

"Wait? Sirius is going to James?" Mora asked.

"Well yeah," Hagrid started, "Yer honestly think he'd go to his parents house after-" Hagrid managed to stop his reckless aloud train of thought, yet it was too late, the seed of interest had been planted inside Mora's questions.

"After what?" Mora asked. "Hagrid, what happened to his parents?"

Hagrid sighed, drawing his fingers through his matted beard. "Alright, I'll tell ye. Just promise not to tell anyone I told, yer here?"

"Of course," Mora reassured.

"The Blacks," Hagrid began, "Are a very old pure blood family. Believe in Ipurity/i and all that rubbish. Very big supporters of the Dark Lord, they are. So, it's safe ter say that Sirius doesn't get along very well with them. 'E is a Gryffindor after all. So, this summer Sirius couldn't take it no more. He left them all and moved in with the Potters, such kind folk they are. Sirius is like their second son, he is."

"I never knew that," Mora said quietly. "Well, I always assumed his family wasn't picture perfect, after all he and his younger brother always seem to be at each other's throats. But I never really imagined any of that..."

"It's sad, but that Sirius is one tough kid," Hagrid commented. "Stronger than any Black out there."

"Who am I to judge about family?" Mora said drearily. "Out of my ten memories I have of whatever bit of family I had ever known, a grand total of two of them were happy, after all, they had nothing to do with their murders."

Mora looked back to Hagrid, whose eyes swelled with concern. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, "I didn't mean to kill the Christmas spirit and what not."

"Nah, yer didn't kill anything, Mora," Hagrid smiled to his friend. "You make me happier than I ever remember."

"Me too."


	23. Presents and Precautions

23. Presents and Precautions

"Go on now, open it!" Sirius beckoned as he shoved yet another package into Mora's grasp.

The two sat alongside James that Christmas morning, perched happily in the Potter's elegant living room. The trio wrenched open numerous gifts from their friends that morning underneath the illuminated tree, decorated to the fullest with lights, colorful glass balls, as well as ornaments containing pictures, James' family brought to life in the small orbs.

Mora beamed brightly as she took the last gift within her hands. It was merely nine o'clock in the morning, yet the entire group finished ripping all of the wrapping paper to pieces, forced open every box, and admired every gift. Mora didn't expect to be sent Christmas presents from her friends in Gryffindor. But she had been proved wrong dreadfully early that morning when James and Sirius dragged her out of bed and down the stairs.

"And this one is from..." Mora trailed off as she examined the box from some indication of who it was from.

"The lovely creature sitting over here," Sirius said as he pointed to himself gleefully.

Mora laughed as she tore away the bright blue wrapping paper. Rolling up the scrap in a little ball, she playfully tossed it into the boy's face. The ball smacked him in the nose dead on. "Well, you're welcome then," Sirius gruffed as he threw the paper over his shoulder.

"Thank you, Sirius," Mora recited as Sirius smiled brightly.

"That's better!" he chimed.

"Alright already!" James moaned happily. "Open the ruddy box before New Year's!"

"Now I might just have to take my sweet time here," Mora sighed as she rested the gift in her lap.

"You really want to kill me here?" James asked lightly.

"Nah," Mora answered. "After all, in Christmas. Wouldn't want to ruin your parents' holiday."

James sighed deeply. Mora scooped up the present once more as she opened the end of the box. Carefully the shifted the contents into her hands, the tender touch melting in your grasp. Mora sharply inhaled as her eyes jumped back to Sirius, who's grin had grown tenfold. Mora held a bright blue scarf, so soft she wanted to wrap her entire body with it. She caught sight of a tag still lingering on the scarf, one word jumping out in her mind.

"Casmir?" she muttered out. "Oh no, oh Sirius, I can't accept this, I-"

"You can, and you will," Sirius cut in.

"Sirius..." Mora started again, her voice wary.

"Hey, the way I look at it," Sirius went on, "Part of it can be the time you bet me I couldn't stuff seven pumpkin pasties in my mouth at once."

"I bet you, what, twenty knuts?" Mora defended.

"Doesn't matter," Sirius repeated, as he reached to the scarf and in one swift movement ripped the tag away. "See? Now you can enjoy it without being so damn stubborn."

Mora flung into Sirius' arms, hugging him tightly. "Thank you Sirius!" she cried happily.

Sirius embraced her back, and only seen by James, his cheeks flushed a light scarlet. "Don't mention it."

"Oh Merlin," Mora said as the two parted. She picked up her last gift to give from beneath the tree, "My gift isn't nearly as-"

"I'll love it, Mora, trust me," Sirius assured as he took the present into his hands. Quickly he wrenched the wrapping off, the small bow bouncing onto the ground.

James burst out into laughing the moment he saw the object in Sirius' grasp, his uncontrollable hysterics easing Mora's nerves. That was, after all, the objective of a gag gift. Sirius held in his hands a bright pink beaters bat, with small green hearts splattered on it. "That's priceless," he spluttered out.

It was true, the sight of the gift again tugged at Mora's heart. James and Sirius were both on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, a chaser and a beater. It did make Mora's memories flood back each time the two returned from practice, of when the entire school swarmed the stadium for the school's match. Mora always stayed behind on these days, claiming she wasn't ever a big fan of the sport. But Mora knew the truth behind her disconnection with Quidditch.

She simply wanted to forget.

Mora refused to remember the joy Quidditch brought her. That rush she felt when she clutched her broom and her beater's bat before a big game. Quidditch reminded Mora far too much of the past that she wanted to keep buried. It carried with it the images of her brother, Ardien, as well as her time spent on the Slytherin Quidditch team, with Eric and Tom. Certainly something Mora did not wish to recall.

Despite the fact so many unwanted memories tangled up with the ridiculous and flamboyant beater's bat, Mora knew Sirius would appreciate it, in all of it's stupidity. So, she gave it to him, and in a way, it was as if she was parting with a small piece of herself.

"Merry Christmas mate," Mora smiled.

Sirius' grin widened with each passing second, showing Mora the truly loved the gift. "You know, this could make me very popular with the ladies on the team," he said as he smashed at the air with the bright bat.

"Sure, violent, yet sensitive?" James pondered.

"That's me alright. Good ol' destructive yet cute Sirius Black."

"Just hold still then," Beverly Potter demanded gently as she tried to stick a hat atop the head of her squirming son.

"Mum! I told you, I'll be fine!" James retorted.

"Well excuse me for caring," Beverly sighed in defeat as she trudged away from her resilient son.

"Well, I'm off then," James said as he fashioned a scarf around his neck. Despite the fact he was fully capable of apparating from his own home to Lily's without splinching or anything, his mother demanded he be _dressed appropriately._ It wasn't as if he were about to hike up the mountains or anything.

"Say hello to Miss Evans for me, will you," Sirius called from his comfortable position in the Potter's kitchen, grabbing whatever scrap he could find of dessert left. "Don't snog her too hard in front of her parents."

"Promise Padfoot," James sighed as he leaned against the door frame of the kitchen. "Where's Mora?"

"Upstairs, writing a letter to someone, or something like that," Sirius noted, gesturing to the staircase across the house.

"So..." James started, taking the moment to say this in Mora's absence. "Casmir, eh?"

Sirius shrugged. "I saw it, I bought it to give to any one of the girls, and decided to give it to Mora. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is," James replied as he crossed his arms over his chest slyly. "One; the stores you go to in Hogsmede definitely don't sell anything like that, so you had to have gone off looking for it. And two; there's another way I know you picked that expensive little scarf up for just Mora."

"And how's that?" Sirius asked, somewhat defensively.

"It's the exact same color as her eyes," James declared.

Sirius smiled. "Alright, alright. Yes, I went off to get Mora a nice present, and when I saw it, I just, needed to get it for her."

"Sirius," James said with a weary tone. "You know you don't have the money for that."

"I have money!" Sirius defended quickly, "Still have some saved up from before this summer."

It was true, Sirius had managed to grab as much money as he could find in those last days. Before he abandoned what he once called his _home_ in the Black family. Sirius knew that he never had a true home with them, or anything that a family should be expect the screaming, cursing, and shaming. Sirius wished he could only have ran out of there sooner.

_They may have been horrible,_ Sirius thought to himself, _But at least they paid for everything..._

"Which isn't much," James jumped in, "And will dry up if you keep spending like that."

"What are you, my keeper?" Sirius snapped as he bound from his seat.

"No, Padfoot, I just..." James started. "I know you care about Mora, no matter what you say, you really do. But you've been throwing around whatever money you have long before this, all summer and while we were at school too. I just think you need to be more careful is all."

"Look, can we not do this now?" Sirius advocated. "Just, not on Christmas."

"Alright, alright," James sighed. "I'm off. Just don't buy Mora diamonds when she comes downstairs, deal?"

"Fine," Sirius said before adding, with his hands over his heart "But those diamonds were for you, Prongs."

"My turn then," Mora smiled as she and Sirius sat awake in the dark living room. The only thing that illuminated them was the crackling fire and the lights dancing brightly on the Christmas tree. The two, bored of sitting up and waiting for James to return from his never ending visit at Lily's house after hours, decided to play a sort of question making game to pass the time.

"My next question, is..." she started, curled up comfortably on one side of the sofa as Sirius lounged on the opposite side. "What is the dumbest thing you've done at Hogwarts?"

"So, so many," Sirius joked. "Well, just maybe it was the time Wormtail and I tried to start a hail storm in Filtch's office-"

"What?" Mora laughed at the idea.

"Hey! It _sounded_ like a good idea at the time," Sirius said. "Not only did we get caught, when we were trying to run away when Filch popped in, I got hit in the head with a rather large chunk of ice and got a nasty concussion."

"Slick, Sirius," Mora noted as she began to giggle again.

"Moving on then from my less than charming moment," Sirius said.

This game had gone on for at least an hour now, each question leading to a more ridiculous or random answer than the next. A simply silly drabble to pass the time, just filled with laughter and fond memories. Which briefly describes why Mora found herself so unprepared for the question Sirius so suddenly sprung upon her.

"So...why are you here on Christmas instead of at your own house?"

Mora felt herself freeze up at the sound of this question. Had she really just been asked such a thing? How on earth could Mora answer this without revealing to much of her secret? Surely, she knew Sirius was just curious, or wondering if she found herself in the same situation with her family as he was. Little did Sirius understand how drastically different their families truly were.

Mora gazed away, her eyes drifting into empty space. "Because I don't have a house, or a home for that matter," she answered, her serious tone reflecting the solemnest of Sirius' question.

Mora didn't look back to her friend, assuring herself she had no way of understanding what ran threw his head at the moment. Mora remained silent, fidgeting her fingers together nervously. She had no idea what she would say or do to go about all of this. Despite her friendship with him, there was still some eluding factor about Sirius Black which kept Mora from trusting him completely.

She knew, not now at least, could she tell another person the truth about her past. James, Dumbledore, and Hagrid all knew, yet they discovered Mora Cartea without Mora's consent or knowledge. Yet Mora had only relieved the truth to one person on her own terms, and that had been Reamus Lupin. Mora felt that she could not handle, emotionally or mentally, to share her secret with another. No matter what thoughts she had of giving in, Mora refused to tell Sirius anything about Mora Cartea or her most unfortunate life.

But still, she had to tell him something, whether it be truth or fabrication.

"My family isn't alive anymore," Mora choked out eventually.

"Mora," Sirius said weakly, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to -"

"There's nothing wrong with you asking," Mora said quickly. "They were murdered, my sister and my two brothers, by the Death Eaters. Then Voldemort killed my father more than two years ago."

Sirius said nothing, but he abandoned his spot on the sofa and sat directly beside Mora, letting her rest her head upon his shoulder. "Well, I can start to understand how the Dark Lord rips families apart."

"How?" Mora softly muttered.

"The Blacks are such a hoity-toity _perfect_ pureblood family, hates everyone and demolishes anyone who gets on their nerves," Sirius started dully. "Naturally when Lord Voldemort pops up, my family is behind him one hundred and fifty bloody percent. So when they have one kid, who doesn't fit into their little mold, well...things start to get ugly."

Mora looked up to Sirius, her eyes tired not just from the day's festivities. "You went against them."

"That I did," Sirius nodded. "And my parents didn't take to kindly to the disappointment son. Eventually after six years of the Gryffindor going home for summer holidays, putting up with the hostility and the abuse and the occasional beatings, I just couldn't take it anymore."

"You left them?"

"Practically moved into this house over the summer," Sirius smiled shortly. "Now, I know I have no idea at all about losing the people you love, but I do understand how it feels when you think you're alone in this world."

"You're not alone, Sirius, you're stuck with us," Mora said, "And me."

"Same as you, kiddo," Sirius smiled as he ruffled her chestnut hair, causing her to wince in annoyance.

"Merlin, how dysfunctional are we?" Mora said, a ray of happiness shining through her words.

"Very," Sirius responded.


	24. The Golden Rule

24. The Golden Rule

Winter took its toll upon the students of Hogwarts. The holiday was well over, and the students were forced back into the harsh reality of school. Icy winds and heavy storms locked them inside the castle, the cold numbing their spirits a bit as well. Their professors took this opportunity to load their pupils up with as many assignments as popped into their heads. An air of frustration and boredom seeped it's way inside the walls of the school, leaving it's inhabitants itching for relief. Not one person hadn't fallen victim to this trend.

Mora groaned loudly as she bond out of the classroom, taking her rage out pace as she stormed down the corridor. With no surprise, the Slytherins decided to vent their frustration through their favorite pastime; harassing anyone and everyone they come into contact with. Which for Mora meant putting up with much more of Colton Bayard's nuisance and annoyances each and every time she trudged into McGonagall's classroom. His antics rose Mora's loathing to a point where she would rather spend that daily hour being attacked by centaurs rather than even look in Colton's direction.

"Well, seems as though you're having a splendid day," Reamus noted as he reached Mora's side, keeping up with her frantic pace.

"Absolutely bloody terrific," Mora grumbled. "I swear the next time I even hear that brat mutter one more word I my direction I'll-"

"Mora, murder is bad," Reamus scolded, causing a smile to creep its way across her face.

"Looking pretty good right now," Mora sighed. "So what about you? How are you holding up on this lovely January afternoon?"

"Not stuck in a homicidal rage or anything, but not peachy either," Reamus said.

"And how is your secret admiration of Miss Taylor working for you?" Mora asked as Reamus shushed her frantically.

"Mora! Quit it!" he whined. "And it's dreadful, thank you. You try fancying someone and never being able to tell them."

"Reamus, there's nothing stopping you from running up to Emmy and snogging her," Mora repeated, once again, "Expect for you own bloody stubbornness."

"You know exactly why I can't, and I'm not having this discussion again," Reamus said sourly.

"And the more you say it the more I feel the increasing need to smack you across the face," Mora groaned as James joined the two in the corridor.

"What? The Reamus-loves-Em-and-won't-admit-it deal?" he asked flatly as Mora nodded. "Yup, thought so."

"Well, I love how this is so routine for all of you," Reamus replied.

"Because you always put up the same weak little argument every time, my friend," James answered back. "And after a while it starts to get a little old."

"We all don't go about girls as you do, Prongs," Reamus said. "The prospect of asking her out every day for six years until she cave's isn't that attractive."

"Ouch," Mora winced.

"Eh, I've got a girl, and he doesn't," James sighed.

"Alright, let's not make this a competition or anything," Mora intervened. "I think we need to handle our frustration somehow else and not through venting to each other."

"Hmmm, and we all know how the Marauders spend their time and effort," James said slyly. "I think it's time we remind everyone what it is we do."

"But we need something big," Reamus thought aloud, "Something we've never pulled before..."

"Something involving our favorite people," James added, motioning to the herd of Slytherins staring dangerously at the group of Gryffindors as they passed.

_Big, eh?_ Mora thought to herself. Sure, she was no Marauder, yet Mora remembered her one encounter with pranking.

"_Well," Jades started, "Did you do it?"_

_Mora snatched up a croissant from the table. "Wait and see," she said nonchalantly." Seconds later, four very flustered Slytherins rushed to the table, their eyes blazing with fire. Unable to contain themselves, the girls broke out into fits of giggles. Each boy now wore a full head of hot pink hair, shining brightly through the hall. _

"_Awesome!" Jades laughed, giving Mora a congratulatory high five across the table. _

"_Alright," Eric said angrily, pounding his fist against the table. "Who did it?"_

"_Now Eric, what on earth are you talking about?" Cassidy said, trying to sound as causal as possible. _

"_Out with it! Who gave us cup cake heads?" Korbin snipped, only adding to the hilarity of the situation. _

"_Jades you are such a-" _

"_Actually boys, it was me," Mora said, pulling her soft blonde hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. _

"_You?" _

Mora smiled softly, remembering one of her few truly fond memories from her sixth year. It had been so early in the year, before she knew how twisted Jades or Eric were, or before anything at all happened with Tom. Just a small flash from the past of that, the first time she can remember being proud of something she alone pulled off.

"What are you thinking?" Reamus asked as he noticed Mora's expression.

Mora snapped herself back into reality, shaking her head. "Oh, nothing, nothing that would work here."

"No, no you can't do that!" James jumped in eagerly. "Now you have to tell us! Those are the rules!"

"What rules?" Mora asked.

"_The _rules," James added, implying some sort of unwritten code of conduct between the friends. "And one of the most important rules actually; never keep a prank from your friends."

"Sharing is caring, right?" Mora laughed. "Alright, I give up, I'll tell. But I'm warning you, there is no way that any of us can pull it off."

"A challenge, eh?" James echoed. "I think we're up to it."

"Alright," Sirius said excitedly as he stretched out the Marauders map across the table in the Gryffindor common room, Reamus, James, Peter, and Mora all cowering over it. Sirius flipped through a few pages before he reached the one he searched for. "Here's the first entrance to the Slytherin common room."

"It's not gonna work!" Mora cried out again, only to be shushed by the other four immediately.

"Yes it will! We just need to have a plan," James replied quickly.

"So here's what Plan B would be," Sirius started, placing his finger over the spot on the map, "We can use James' invisibility cloak and three of us follow some other Slytherin in, and make our way up to the furthest bathrooms, the seventh years' one, first. Then we work our way down until we hit the first years' lavatory, and then get out of there before any little snakes see us."

"And the problem with that is," Reamus jumped in wearily, "No control. We have to rely on some Slytherin to get us in, not to mention we'd have to go in the middle of the day, which makes a much much bigger risk of us getting caught."

"Caught in a dungeon full of angry Slytherins," Peter sighed, "Not exactly my idea of a good time."

"Which is why we have Plan _A_ to try out first," Sirius answered as he lifted his finger off the parchment. "We've already talked Plan A over, any objections?"

"I've got a few," Mora interjected, opposing her own initial suggestion. "The other entrance is only legend, there's no way to know if it's really there or not."

"Which is why we're just going to go see if it's there tonight, and if not we can always try this out tomorrow," Sirius replied, looking back to Mora. "Any other complaints?"

"Just the one," Mora said in defeat, crossing her arms over her chest stiffly.

"Good," Sirius smiled. "So, are you in?"

"Why not," Mora said, somewhat unsure. "Let's do it."


	25. Midnight Exploits

25. Midnight Exploits

"Here we are," Reamus whispered back to his friends as the three stopped before a long painting at the very end of the dark corridor. Mora, Peter, and Sirius nearly crashed into him with the abrupt stop, yet they managed to regain their balance before it was too late.

"You sure this is it?" Sirius questioned unsurely as he eyed the portrait. "How can this possibly be the entrance?"

It surely didn't appear to be an portal to some secret dark passageway. The painting didn't look threatening in the least to Mora, the once bright image dimming considerably with the wears of time. The work of art looked as if an eleven year old could produce something considerably better than it. It was a simple silhouette of some figure against a dull red background, the corners of the canvas beginning to peel off the frame. Hardly anyone traveled to this corner of the dungeons; it was reasonably that a less than preferred painting be placed here if at all.

"This is what the story says," Mora hurriedly answered as she approached the painting.

Mora recalled the whispers spread about Hogwarts of a long forgotten tunnel leading from the very edge of the dungeons directly into the Slytherin house. Of course, there were many secret passageways throughout the castle, all of which being outlined and detailed in the Marauders Map. Yet this one was very different from the others. This path remained missing from the map, as it stood to be merely a myth until this night.

Yet another adversity about this tunnel separated the legend from the rest. The story passed through Slytherin, and that slowly began to creep its way to the other houses, that not everyone gained access to the entrance. Only someone who obtained a certain trait could reveal the doorway. The daring student, in true Slytherin fashion, must be a pureblood. Yet exactly what needed to be done to get inside remained a mystery. Some whispered all that was needed was the presence of a pureblood, while others raged for blood and human sacrifice, the rumors raged on.

_How original_ Mora thought to herself as her blue eyes gazed upon the painting. When Mora first revealed her original scheme to the Gryffindors, she let slip a rumor of this mysterious passageway. She successfully convinced them she heard of this entrance from the countless boastings and rambling's of Colton that Mora was forced to stomach. Yet Mora remembered when she truly learned of this legend, when she herself lived within the dungeons with her fellow Slytherins.

The conversation had been risen by a bashful Ellery one day, and then the debate exploded on the credibility of the unknown entrance. Many Slytherins were dead set on the belief that this legend was true, while others argued no such entrance existed. Mora recalled most clearly her own companion who fumed with the belief that the rumor was nothing more than rubbish. Tom went out of his way to squash Ellery's murmurings, his passion over the subject frightening Mora.

_Why did he boil over like that?_ Mora mused to herself sourly. _After all, what would Tom against a secret exclusive pure blood doorway? He was running about slaughtering muggle-borns -_

Mora quickly shushed her nagging thoughts. The last thing she needed right now was a distraction. After all, what she and the Marauders were attempting to do could turn very ugly if something went wrong. Of course, for this reason as well as their own stubborn pride, the guys originally argued Mora stay out of the scheme. Yet she persistently demanded she be in on it, after all, it was all her idea. Eventually, she managed to sway each Gryffindor to agree with her, expect for James, who thought Mora was making a big mistake.

_He's just scared I'll have a memory and go into a coma or something while I'm in there_, Mora reasoned silently, _I have been known to get those visions at the worst possible time, lucky..._

Reluctantly, he agreed to patrol outside the main entrance to Slytherin on his own. If anyone, a meddling Slytherin in particular, were to cross paths with him at any time of the night, James always had his Head Boy status to fall back on. Peter would wait behind with the sour painting, ready to divert anyone who may stumble down the corridor, although that was very unlikely. Sirius, Reamus, and Mora were to enter the Slytherin house and do the dirty work, much to Mora's excitement and anxiety.

The three were adorned in all black, a tacky idea of Sirius' that he made them adopt. Also, because of Sirius' meddling, they wore masks that hid their true identity from view. It was almost like a muggle ski-mask, except where there would be slits for the eyes and mouth, there was just more material, yet Mora was still able to see and breathe perfectly with the mask over her face. Their faces turned into masses of black cloth, no features to signify they were even human. Mora tried to convince Sirius they looked like a gaggle of reject ninjas, yet he persisted she either wear it or bow out. Grudgefully, she wore the uniform and swallowed up her pride.

_Well, if you don't wear it_, Sirius had persisted, _And some Slytherin bugger happens to come across your path and see your face, then you'll wish you looked like a reject ninja too._

"So how do we get in?" Peter asked softly as he eyed the painting with suspicion.

"We open it up somehow," Mora reasoned. Impulsively, Sirius lunged at the portrait, trying to rip the frame off of its hinges and snap it off the wall.

"Padfoot!" Reamus snapped as he and Peter ripped the boy off of the art piece.

"Bloody idiot!" Mora criticized angrily as she glared at the sulking Sirius.

Sirius gleamed back to the girl, fixing his tilted mask on his face. "You've got any better ideas?"

Mora pushed him aside, coming inches before the surface of the painting. "One," she whispered. She let her imagination get the best of her, yet the more she deliberated over the possibility, the more she believed it could actually work. Of course she knew she didn't need some sort of animal sacrifice to open the portal, yet something equally and predictable and at the same time thought eluding that would give them access.

Silently, Mora drew her wand over the tip of her left index finger, and in one simple flick of the wrist, a drop of blood began to prickle over her skin. She raised her hand to eye level and slowly ran her crimson coated finger over the small figure in the painting. As her blood trickled down the canvas, Mora pulled her finger away, and instantly with a quick incantation healed the small wound over her finger.

Mora stumbled back a few steps, rejoining her transfixed companions, their eyes glued upon the painting. The blood soaked into the artwork, the image of the silhouette absorbing every last drop. And before their eyes the painting began to transform, the ugly and unflattering image transfiguration startling to the group of pranksters. The painting of a man now filled the frame, his narrow dark eyes fixed over Mora. His deep violet robes hid his crooked frame, yet his long, boney fingers tapped impolitely against his arms in a dark frustration.

"Who...who is that?" Peter asked timidly as the transformation completed.

"I've seen him before..." Sirius recalled. "Yeah! On a chocolate frog card, that's Herpo the Foul!"

"Pureblood no doubt," Reamus observed as he gazed upon the dark wizard. "Okay, Wormtail, start off at the mouth of the corridor, that way you can get rid of anyone who comes close."

Peter nodded eagerly as he dashed out of the dark corner, scared to death of the eeriness of the abandoned place within the dungeons. Eventually the thuds of his footsteps faded away and Peter hurried far out of sight.

The image of Herpo the Foul still had not drawn his eyes off of Mora, and his upturned mouth slivered open in a snake-like manner. "Child of the house of Cartea," Herpo hissed out darkly, the ice within his words startling Mora to her core. "You may proceed."

Just as his last word echoed within the corridor, the portrait lifted off its hinges, revealing an opening within the decaying stone wall of the dungeon.

"Nice job Mora," Sirius complimented as he stepped through the opening. "Well, you coming?" Sirius called back as he excitedly raced further on, leaving both Mora and Reamus behind.

Mora felt her neck grow hot and her cheeks swell with heat as well. Her breathing grew heavier as she turned to her friend. "Reamus," she whispered. "He knew, he called me, he-"

"I heard it too," Reamus said hurriedly. "For the time being I don't think you should dwell on it," he advised, "Sirius heard it as well, but I don't think he even noticed."

"For once I'm thankful for that thick head of his," Mora reassured herself jokingly.

"C'mon you two!" Sirius called back. Sharing one last look, Mora swept inside the new corridor, squeezing between the tight walls. Reamus followed closely behind her, and in an instant the entrance swallowed up, enveloping the small tunnel into vast darkness.

The tunnel wound deeper and deeper down into the dungeons, the stench of the sewer like corridor starting to make Mora dizzy.

"So..." Mora said nervously, "Who was that man in the painting again?"

"Herpo the Foul," Sirius explained as the group took another sharp turn, "Famous dark wizard, legendary for creating the most horrifying monster that kills you just by looking at it. A giant serpent more deadly than anything you've ever -"

"It's just a dumb story," Reamus urged and Sirius continued to play up the drama of his tale.

"Oh really?" Sirius defended.

Mora shuddered silently as the three came upon a lone ladder reaching up to the ceiling, looking as if someone hadn't touched it in ages. Mora was afraid if they even tried to touch the first rung the entire think would fall to pieces. Yet Sirius persisted and, so kind and chivalrous of him, knocked her out of the way and jumped on first. Reamus and Mora followed cautiously as the ladder lead them further and further up endlessly.

Mora clung closely to the ladder, climbing each rung cautiously. Despite Reamus' attempt of easing her nerves, Mora knew Sirius' story of Herpo the Foul rooted in some truth. Mora remembered all too well other murmurings of a deadly serpent, and these rumors were validated the day Mora gained the quickest glimpse of the basilisk. For a slight instant, Mora laid eyes on the beast that terrorized the castle for months, the creature that Tom and Tom alone could control. The memory brought the same, numb fear stinging back into Mora's heart.

"There we are," Sirius said softly as he reached the top of the ladder. Nervously he reached on hand to the ceiling, while the other remained firmly clutched around the ladder for dear life. Carefully Sirius pushed up against the ceiling, revealing the opening. "Just a bit further," Sirius called back down to the others as he hurried through the opening and out of sight.

"That's what he said five minutes ago," Mora huffed as she followed, Reamus now disappeared through the door. Once she reached the opening, a hand clamped down on her shoulder. Roughly she was pulled through the opening and landed loudly on the cold tiled floor.

Mora winced as she straightened up on the ground, clutching her sore shoulder. "Thanks for that, really," she groaned annoyingly.

"If I'd let it up to you to get through we'd be here all day," Sirius shrugged.

"Will you two shut up?" Reamus scolded mildly. "We're here."

Mora spun around, finally absorbing her surroundings. The three had landed squarely inside the furthest bathroom, the one usually occupied by seventh year girls of Slytherin. Mora remembered the greenish glow of the tiles that gleamed though the darkness.  
"Alright, let's get to work," Mora said as she reached into her pocket, pulling out three unmarked vials.

"Just a drop into each showerhead," she warned as she handed one of the potions to Reamus. "Any more, and someone might have a nasty allergic reaction to the dye."

"Allergic?" Sirius echoed as he examined the vial in Mora's hand, a hint of mischief gleaming from his eyes.

"You know, itchy, redness," Mora listed, "Missing limbs, three eyes. The ordinary."

"That wouldn't exactly be the end of the world..." Sirius smirked as he grabbed hold of the third vial.

"Okay, I'll take care of this bathroom, start off at the boy's lavatories and work your way down," Mora instructed.

"Done or not, meet back here in ten minutes," Reamus added as he and Sirius disappeared out the door and slithered into the rest of the Slytherin house.

Mora turned her attention to the row of showers in the bathroom and crept silently over the cool tile floor. She gently pulled the cork from the vial, the green potion inside glowing dimly from its glass confinement. Mora snickered to herself as she contaminated each shower with the brew. Now she could understand why the Marauders took such pleasure in pranking Slytherins as she too felt that rush of success as she slipped out the lavatory, entering the next one with great ease.


	26. Bitter Sweet

26. Bitter Sweet

It seemed to be a beautiful morning that day for the Gryffindors. Breakfast had only just begun, usually the Monday morning blues would have set in right about now. Usually, the students would grudgingly occupy the Great Hall, mumbling about their short lived weekend and the next long five days of classes, homework, and daunting professors that awaited their suffering. But this morning proved to be unique. For the Gryffindors, it proved to be quite a show. They lounged and laughed at their end of the hall, enjoying their victory.

But not all in the Great Hall that morning shared the Gryffindors' joy. Instead, a way across the hall, at their own isolated table, the Slytherins mirrored the exact opposite as their house rivals. They glared, swore, whined, and moaned to each other, each taking the defeat in their own, immature fashion. Not all of them were brave enough to even show their faces at breakfast that morning. Not all of them had been affected by the Gryffindors' scheme, yet they all bore the same grudge against them.

And why such a fuss that Monday morning?

Because the little scheme of a certain gaggle of seventh years turned out to be a huge success. Nearly three fourths of the Slytherin population fell victim to their plot, and more would surely follow after. Anyone who decided to use proper hygiene either late last night or this morning before eight o'clock and take a shower bore their defeat upon them. The plan had worked perfectly. Now, the ladies of Slytherin who had used the shower sported a festive, glaring fire-engine red head of hair, and some even had matching eyebrows to go with that. And for the boys, glittering gold hair, so bright if you were to look directly at it for too long, you'd be stuck with a nasty little migraine.

A clever Gryffindor twist on a perfectly executed prank.

"A toast," Sirius said at his place at the Gryffindor table, still beaming at the sight of the suffering Slytherins, "To Salazar. Hope he's turning in his grave right about now."

"Cheers!" the others around him cried festively, their drinks clinking together roughly.

"On a scale of one to ten," James started after taking a large gulp of his drink. "What do you think..."

"Ten!" Peter interjected happily.

"Phhhhst," Emmeline shook her head is distaste. "Seven, seven point five at the highest."

"And what's with you, Miss Negative?" Reamus questioned.

"I just think next time maybe you should turn their entire body red, not just their hair," Emmeline suggested slyly. "Okay, okay, eight tops."

"That's better," Reamus smiled as Emmeline rolled her eyes playfully to him.

"Okay, next time Em, you can turn their faces red. Deal?"

"I might just hold you to that, Lupin."

"And what does our lady of the hour think?" Sirius asked.

Mora's grin widened. "Hopefully our dear little snakes wouldn't figure out what's hitting them for a while. Then at least more of 'um will take a shower."

"I always knew they were a dirty lot," James added. "But, at least fifteen or so here have normal, non Maruaders-ified hair dos. _Ick._"

"And the more they keep trying to wash it out..." Peter started.

"They more dye gets on them," Emmeline finished. "Exactly how much of that stuff did you put in there?"

"Enough to last a good four days," Reamus smiled as another outburst flooded from the Slytherins, much to the other student's utter amusement.

"Not to mention that dye won't fade for two, maybe three weeks," Mora reminded.

Mora smiled in her satisfaction, her head propped in her hand as she gazed across the Great Hall. Her gaze fell upon the hysterical Slytherins, the masses of crimson and gold sparkling in her bright blue eyes. It was funny how such a silly, childish action could bring such joy to a nearly adult witch in all technicalities, well, legally an adult. Mora wasn't a malicious person in the least, but it was nice every once in a while to watch karma finally strike. And the Slytherins were most deserving.

Mora sighed heavily as she trudged out of potions with her two companions later the same afternoon, her face contorting into a long, noisy yawn.

"Tired?" Lily mused as she took sight of Mora's scrunched up expression. Lily clutched her potions manual tightly to her chest, the edges worn and over flowing with extra notes she had shoved between her treasured book's pages.

"Exhausted..." Mora answered before her words swelled into another yawn.

"From what, all you're over-strenuous napping in class just now?" Reamus asked.

"Was I that obvious?" Mora questioned lightly.

"Depends," Reamus continued, "Do you consider drooling over the side of your desk to be _obvious_?"

"Whoops," Mora giggled carelessly as she self-consciously wiped the side of her mouth, searching for any undesired saliva.

"How did you slept through that lesson?" Lily exclaimed largely, "It was so interesting! Especially what Slughorn mentioned about -"

"Sorry I missed it," Mora cut in. She knew if she let the eager Miss Evans rave on about another rousing potions lesson, she may never get the girl to stop for air. "Can you blame me though? We didn't exactly get the chance to sleep much last night," Mora smiled, recalling the last nights prank.

Suddenly a pair of hands slipped over Mora's eyes and tugged her back a step as she gasped in surprise. "Guess who?" She heard the person whisper into her ear.

"Sirius Black, do you know how much I hate you right now?" Mora quipped, Sirius still blocked her vision.

"Nah, I'm too cute to hate, remember?" he smiled as he dropped his hands and then shoveled them into his pockets as he walked on with Mora, Reamus, and Lily.

"What are you doing down here?" Lily asked, "Honestly, we all know the happiest moment of your life was when you finally got to drop potions..."

"What can I say, I missed this dingy old place too much," Sirius added. "Flitch caught me this morning hanging Missus Norris from the tail out the lavatory window, and happily sentenced me to scrubbing out half this bloody place."

"Magic free?" Reamus inquired. "Flitch does seem to have that morbid sense of humor when it comes to punishment."

"Did it the good ol' fashion muggle way," Sirius sighed as he reminisced about his detention. "Remind me never to take up a career in housekeeping."

"I always thought that'd be your one true calling in life," Mora grinned.

"Well if you wouldn't mind going into the business with me," Sirius mused as he threw his arm over Mora's shoulder, who rolled her eyes in return. "After all, I'd kill to see you in one of those little French-maid outfits-"

Before Mora had the chance to move out of the way, a figure came bursting through the corridor. Their cloak was pulled over their head, masking their face into the dark fabric as they sprinted in Mora's direction. She dodged the stranger, however they collided head on with Lily. Lily was thrown to the ground, her potions manual landing a few feet away and her pages upon pages of notes fluttering across the hallway. The stranger too was knocked to the ground, and they landed flat on their back with a rather loud and angry grunt.

"My notes!" Lily cried out as Reamus and Mora pulled the distraught redhead. Lily lunged forward to reach for piece of parchment still floating to the ground, clutching it in her fist tightly. Reamus chased off after Lily in his attempt to assist her in her frantic quest to retrieve her notes.

"Watch where you're going next time!" Mora snapped at the stranger, who was still on the ground. As they sat up, their cloak slipped of their head, revealing a familiar face.

Colton Bayard store back at Mora, as much venom laced with his glare as was in Mora's. As he leapt to his feet, Mora instantly realized what he had been masking desperately with his cloak. He had fallen victim to her own handy work, and now he bore a shimmering head full of metallic-gold hair, glowing in the hazily lit dungeon.

"Well, well, well," Sirius smirked at the scowling Bayard. "I've gotta say, Bayard, this look is definitely better than what you had before-"

"Keep your mouth shut, you piece of Gryffindor trash!" Colton spat back into Sirius' face.

"C'mon Cole, you should be thanking me right now," Sirius boasted on, loving his opportunity to push Colton Bayard's buttons.

It was common knowledge that the two hated each other practically since birth. Their families obviously knew each other fairly well, both being well-off in the pure blood circle. Colton and Sirius always butted heads as children, but their loathing exploded once they reached Hogwarts. To Sirius, Colton represented what he could have turned into to, if he had succumbed to all of his parents' expectations of him, the Black heir. But to Colton, Sirius portrayed nothing but a piece of filth, something that needed to be squashed. And Colton was more than willing to put Sirius right into his place.

"After all," Sirius cantered on, "I am the one responsible for your new-do, and besides, it does draw attention away from that nasty mole you got there-"

"I ought of known scum like you would be up to this..." Colton seethed.

Sirius shrugged innocently. "Guilty!"

"Why you little..." Colton rattled off as he drew his wand out from his pocket, ready to strike at Sirius.

"Hey!" Mora burst in, jumping in between Colton and Sirius. She had already retrieved her wand, and pointed it squarely at Colton's neck. She was in no mood to watch a brawl ensue between the two, how if it were inevitable, she wouldn't mind sending a few curses in Bayard's direction.

Colton snickered. "Can't even fight your own battles anymore, can you Black? You have to get your little girlfriend to -"

"I am _not_ his girlfriend," Mora spat defensively as she pressed her wand into his skin in aggravation.

"So quick to defend yourself, eh? Don't want to align yourself with trash like this, I always knew you had it in you, kid..." he sauntered on, causing Mora only to press her wand harder, making Colton wince.

"Just get out of here, you prat," Mora grumbled as she pulled her wand back, "Next time you even breath in our direction, I'll have no shame in hexing your sorry arse into the twilight zone."

"Looking forward to it," Colton said, flashing a daring look in Mora's direction as he circled around her, so close that they were practically touching, his breath flying across her neck, before he stalked down the dark corridor and out of sight.

_Just like his father_, Mora thought to herself.

"I ought of known scum like you would be up to this..." Colton seethed.

One of the great prides in Sirius' life always had to be whenever he managed to make Colton Bayard's life a living hell. The twerp always tried his hardest to get in Sirius' way, his arrogance and regal air simply made Sirius either want to scream or pummel the Bayard in an instant.

Sirius shrugged innocently. "Guilty!" He smiled back at Colton, taking pride in the ridiculous, tacky golden sparkle of his hair. _That outta knock him off his pedestal for a while_... he thought.

"Why you little..." Colton spat out, as he wrenched his wand out from his pocket. Before Sirius could even reach for his own wand, Mora stepped in front of him, blocking his path to Bayard.

That was one nice trait that Sirius and Mora shared, their mutual hatred for the insect known as Colton Bayard. Ever since she arrived at Hogwarts, Sirius noticed Mora picked up quickly on the we-all-hate-the-Slytherins song and dance, yet she seemed to harbor unique loathing for Bayard. And Colton in return fueled her feeling with his own annoyances. And, the sick shell of a person that he is, Colton exhibited another feeling to Mora. Despite their fights, death threats and long exclamations of hatred to one another, Sirius could see clearly how attracted to Mora that Colton really was.

And that was the one thing that angered Sirius the most. That a sub-human like Bayard would dare to even think about Mora that way. Sirius now knew he couldn't deny his feelings about Mora any more. He had only met her a few months ago, and now he felt things for her he didn't know her could. It wasn't love, oh no, Sirius Black _never_ fell in love. But he knew he cared about her, and the idea of that little snake Bayard even looking at her made his fury boil.

"Can't even fight your own battles anymore, can you Black? You have to get your little girlfriend to-"

"I am _not_ his girlfriend," Mora jumped down his throat instantly.

_Well, that boosts my self confidence a whole lot,_ Sirius wondered hopelessly. No matter the truth of that last statement, Mora still jumped to his aid in the midst of what may turn into a nasty duel. _I guess she'd be the one wearing the pants in the relationship..._

Wait, relationship? Sirius was only attracted to her! It's not like he wanted to marry the girl or anything. He had a crush, that was all. Just because he thought she was gorgeous and so far from perfect it was amazing, it didn't mean he was in love with her or anything.

_It's just a crush Black,_ Sirius repeated to himself, _Just a crush. After all, she obviously doesn't think of me like that at all._

Sirius knew he clearly fell into the love-ya-like-a-brother category in Mora's eyes. Well, the older yet immature brother who flirted shamelessly with her every second of the day. For Mora, Sirius was that shoulder she could lean on whenever she needed it, that warm friend she could turn to in her time of need, or just whenever she wanted a good laugh.

_A friend, never anything more._

"So quick to defend yourself, eh? Don't want to align yourself with trash like this, I always knew you had it in you, kid..."

"Just get out of here, you prat. Next time you even breath in our direction, I'll have no shame in hexing your sorry arse into the twilight zone." Mora smeared back as she pulled her wand back.

"Looking forward to it," Colton drawled darkly before storming off, but not before practically throwing himself on to Mora. Sirius felt his jaw clench tightly as he watched Colton disappear into the dungeons.

"Merlin I hate him," Sirius grumbled.

"That makes two of us," Mora sighed as she safely stored her wand back into the pocket of her robe.

"Why did you do that?" Sirius asked as he turned back to Mora.

She looked back to him as confusion enveloped her features. "Do what?"

"Just let him off like that, after he talked to you like that," Sirius said.

Mora sighed. "I just really don't feel the need to waste any of my time on the likes of him. He's not worth it."

"Even if it means putting dirt like him where he belongs?" Sirius said back instantly. "To teach him a lesson-"

"He's not worth getting upset over!" Mora cried back. "I'd rather get on with my bloody life than even deal with _him_ for another second."


	27. Simplicity

27. Simplicity

It seemed like just another day.

Students went through their everyday motions. They played out their average, somewhat monotonous. All rights reserved. Routines of sleep, eat, study, and scattered in between goofing off and some sleeping in class. The brisk March wind taunted the castle, reminding all that winter still held them in its grasp. The sun shone, breakfast was on the long tables, the students gathered together before they moved on to classes. Simply routine.

Even the students whose passion was to shake up the everyday found themselves trapped in the strain of their own normalcy. The Marauders sat at their usual places at the house table. Lily as she sat perched practically on top of James, Peter nibbled at his food quietly as Mora attempted to involve him in the conversation, Emmeline and Reamus were engrossed in yet another trivial debate, and Sirius teased the both of them. They enjoyed each other's company and went about their daily business as they prepared for the day ahead. The seven friends assumed that was all today would turn out to be, another hectic day at Hogwarts. Nothing that would really stand out in their memories, nothing all to special, perhaps even dull.

But an announcement from the headmaster would shake up this feeling of normalcy. The illusion that nothing could change at their school or in their lives would not be shattered, but dented. After hearing the announcement some would go on with their day without a care in the world, others would be reverent, some upset, and a few would appear broken.

Dumbledore rose from his seat, a solemn expression had taken over his usually cheerful face. The other members of the staff sat at their places at the head table, a few empty seat evident among the somber faces. He cleared his throat once before saying in his naturally projecting voice, "May I have your attention please."

It took a few moments for the headmaster to settle down the students, whose chirping finally subsided to a dull roar of whispers. The last to stop the chatter were found within the Gryffindor table, an eager Lily shushing the bored Sirius. After surveying the room over, he continued. "Last evening we experienced a terrible loss in our family here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At precisely ten fifty two Wednesday evening, Madame Garrah experienced a massive stroke..."

The Great Hall was now silent.

"She was taken to St. Mungo's where she was later pronounced dead," Dumbledore said. "Madame Garrah has lived with a condition years now, and-"

By now Mora's mind had gone completely numb. Dumbledore's words jumbled in her ears, and she could no longer here anything but the deathly silence that hung heavily around her. That one fact seemed to snatch Mora out of reality.

The words sounded so foreign to her. Sure, Mora never really knew Madame Garrah, in all honesty she didn't know her at all. But the nurse had always shown nothing but kindness to Mora, especially the dozens and dozens of times Mora ended up in her hospital wing, victim to her care. Mora had the same relationship with Madame Garrah that every other student in the school shared with her. So then why was this effecting Mora in such a way?

_Because she knew._ Mora's mind finally drew up, the thought shoving away all the other emotions she held.

Madame Garrah had been there from the beginning. The autumn on 1944 had been Madame Garrah's third or so year employed at Hogwarts. She had been there the night Mora's first tempari landed within the castle. She cared for Mora throughout the school year, monitored her condition and was profoundly baffled over Mora's unexplainable and incurable amnesia. Madame Garrah had been there after the day in the girls lavatory, the day the world believed Mora Cartea died.

And for decades, Madame Garrah went on with her life, putting the unsolved mystery of Mora Cartea behind her. She pursued her career in healing and put up with students year after year. Over thirty years came and went. And then 1978 strolled by, and dumped little Temparious Mora right back on the doorstep of Hogwarts.

Madame Garrah knew the truth. She knew Mora Cartea lived as some strange time traveling inflicted freak of nature. The she know hid under the aliases of Ashford in order to conceal the truth. The lies Mora and Dumbledore spun to protect her were beyond Madame Garrah. She knew who Mora truly was.

And a part of that truth died along with the ailing Madame Garrah.

Mora remained transfixed at the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore continued on, as he spoke of Madame Garrah's enormous dedication and care, and the strides she made in her life, but not a word of it reached Mora. The reality of her secret continued to pick away at Mora's mind. Only four people were left on this earth who shared in Mora's lie. Dumbledore, her mentor, Hagrid, her best friend from long ago, and lastly James and Reamus, some of Mora Ashford's closest friends.

The simplicity of the situation baffled Mora. Such complication and distress wrapped up in this secret, and it faded away with the passing of human life. The irony of it all stung Mora, the idea that the web of lies spun the keep her alive had died itself with another.

"Mora," Peter nudged quietly, as the sound of her name dragged Mora out of her trance. Mora gazed around, seeing that each student had risen from his or her seat, their goblet in hand. Mora did the same as she sprung up from the bench, her fingers twisted around her glass tightly.

"To Madame Garrah," Dumbledore said as he lifted his glass higher into the air. The students mimicked the headmasters action, and together the school shared in the moment of remembrance.

Mora did the same, and in her mourning she felt a pang of guilt simmer in her heart.

"You wanted to see me Headmaster?" Mora asked respectfully as she stepped into Dumbledore's office.

It had been a week since Madame Garrah's passing, and life at Hogwarts had returned to normalcy in full swing. "Yes, come in, take a seat," Dumbledore greeted cheerfully as Mora took the usually seat before his desk.

"Lemon drop?" he asked, extending the small basin before her.

"No, no thanks," Mora answered as Dumbledore popped one of the candies into his mouth before placing the dish back onto his desk.

"Mora, I called you here tonight because there is something I wish to discuss with you," Dumbledore began. "Concerning the appointment of the new head nurse..."

Mora felt her posture stiffen in the wooden chair. Sure, Mora was going on with her day to day life fine, but the mention of Madame Garrah or her death did still trigger some emotions from Mora. And talk of replacing her also dug up feelings of resentment inside Mora. Despite her feelings over the subject, why would Dumbledore need to discuss this type of thing with Mora? She wasn't on the school staff and had no say in the matter at all, so why was should she be involved?

"Her name is Madame Poppy Pomfrey, she was a star healer at St. Mungo's for years, her interest in experimental treatments. She began to search for a new place of employment, and I believe she will be a great success here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore explained, his faith in the new staff member evident in his words.

"Professor, with all due respect," More began uneasily, "Why are you telling me this? I mean, well..."

"I thought you may be a bit befuddled at first," Dumbledore smiled. "Madame Garrah was fully aware of your condition as a Temparious, and I believe it would benefit you if the healing professional on the grounds knew of it now as well. I think it would be in your best interest if Madame Pomfrey was informed. She would not need to know anything of your past history, only the timelines."

"Timelines?" Mora asked as she shifted her weight in her seat wearily.

"The rough ones we have at least. That your first tempari took place somewhere between the late nineteen sixties through the seventies and you traveled to nineteen forty-four. And your next tempari brought you to present day. The boring numerical information," Dumbledore clarified.

"Mora," Dumbledore comforted, noticing Mora's expression of fear, "Madame Pomfrey would not be told anything beyond that. Nothing of your personal life, nothing of Tom Riddle."

His name stung Mora in the stomach like a knife. That one name which linked so much of Mora's past in darkness and distrust. The very thought of Tom caused Mora to awake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. She dare not breath a word of that to James or Reamus, or especially Hagrid. The last thing wanted Mora to do was to constantly remind them of her connection to the mad man who terrorized their world.

"I want what is in your best interest, however only you can determine what exactly that is. It is your secret to tell, Mora, neither mine nor anyone else's," Dumbledore said. "I wish for your consent to do this, it is your choice."

_Experimental healing?_ Mora thought to herself. That sounded a bit risky to her, but maybe this Madame Pomfrey could help Mora here, keep her going a bit longer before she poofed away into another time dimension.

_She would never know_, Mora repeated to herself, trying to build up her confidence. _She would never know about Tom_. And finally, Mora made her decision.

"You have my consent."

Mora sighed as she sat on her bed, the morning's blaring rays of sunshine burning through the dormitory window. The rest of the girls left hours before, already enjoying the comforting glow of the Saturday morning, leaving Mora alone to go about her business in secret. She held the small basin in her hands, eyeing it peculiarly as she pondered what exactly to do with it. Dumbledore had given it to her the other night, in hopes that the item may help reduce Mora's high anxiety level. But Mora knew it served another purpose.

To help her forget, to move on with whatever life she was to live now.

The pensive fit within the palms of Mora's hands, much smaller than the full sized one in Dumbledore's office. The silver liquid swirled within the brim of the basin, the single wisp occupying hardly any of the space in the pensive. A place to store away her memories, the thoughts and past events that nagged at her brain so violently that it tore her apart. It wouldn't make her forget, just keep the memories from invading every aspect of her life.

_That means I'd have to empty my entire life into this thing..._ Mora thought to herself, her dark sense of humor creeping up on her again. There were so many things she itched to cram into this little bowl, so many emotions she need to unload to finally reach to semi-peace she craved.

Mora hadn't the slightest clue if using the pensive could help her or not. She knew that moving a few memories around would never mend her the shards that resembled her life. In Mora's eyes, this pensive was nothing more than a tiny bandage on a stab wound; temporary.

_Right now, temporary sounds pretty good_, Mora reminded herself. After all, her entire life was temporary. Being a Temparious twisted Mora's life around. At any moment she could disappear into an entire different kind of world, generations into the past or centuries into the future, and she rendered completely helpless to it. Nothing in her life was solid, or safe, or even remotely permanent.

Taking in a deep breath, Mora brought her wand up to her temple. "Might as well give this pensive thing a try," she mumbled.


	28. Ready or Not

28. Ready or Not

"Hurry up Ashford! We haven't all day!" James shouted back as he raced down the street, laughing along with Lily and Peter.

Mora had fallen behind, her boots trudging through the deeply packed snow with much resistance. Winter decided to make one last hurrah before March was out, much to Mora's dismay. Many students choose to remain in the castle during this trip to Hogsmede, but a rebellious bunch dared to face the weather. Mora grudgingly agreed to accompany a handful of the Marauders to the village, but now she started to doubt if she had made the right decision.

Mora pulled her cap tighter over her head as she walked further on in the brisk wind that ripped through the village. Snow pelted down from the clouds only adding to Mora's frustration. Her three companions disappeared into a nearby pub, disserting Mora a block and a half behind, trapped in the late snow storm.

Mora continued on her way, her eyes looming off in the distance. Before she could react, another body collided with her own. Mora tumbled to the sidewalk, falling on her back in the heap of fresh snow. Mora winced as the cold seeped into her clothing. After spending a few moments in awe and dark confusion, Mora bounced back up onto her feet, dusting herself off. "Watch where you're going next time..." Mora snapped as she lifted her eyes to meet the strangers'.

In that moment, Mora felt an even darker chill than the frost.

The man who bumped into her stood directly before her, his clearly expensive black robe not damaged at all in the crash. His long neck was tucked away under a black scarf, contrasting greatly with his deathly pale skin. Lines across the man's face marked his advancing years, and a few grays sprinkled through his dark blonde hair. His piercing, honey eyes bore down upon Mora as his lips curled into a frown. With needing to utter a single word to her, Mora knew who this man was.

Over thirty years had came and passed, and sill her carried such a presence. A somewhat regal air, the craving to be respected and praised by all every time he looked in someone's direction. The disregard for other people, as evident in that unsettling collision. This was that little prince Mora had known, but now he was all grown up. The same man, the same maniac.

Eric Bayard.

Mora felt as if the life had been sucked away from her, the breath from her body wrangled out and leaving her an empty shell. The sole person who terrorized Mora for months, taunted her, assaulted her on more than one occasion, and in a sick twist of fate their paths crashed together once more.

In that moment so many thoughts soared through Mora's mind. The fear and need to run screaming in the other direction, the snicker of spitting upon his shoes then going off on her way, the desire to pull out her wand and hex him off the cliffs, and the flame that leapt inside her, that hunger for vengeance. Yet Mora could not choose which course of action to take, so instead she simply store.

And suddenly the reality of her situation fell upon Mora like a ton of bricks. _So you changed your hair and your eyes are a different color_, Mora's thoughts alerted her, _He could still recognize you! Blow your cover, destroy your life, GET YOU KILLED!_

"Excuse me," Eric said, his nose upturned towards Mora in disregard.

Instantly Mora dropped her eyes to the ground. Instinctively she pulled her cap further down her head until it reached her eyes. Nodding slightly as if to say _good-bye_ or _good riddance_, Mora dodged her way into the street and raced off towards the pub, leaving the middle aged Eric Bayard to gawk behind her.

As Mora ran farther and farther, she felt all the emotions she hid away inside her begin the flow over. The walls she built to keep unwanted visions from the past of Mora Cartea were now tumbling down. She ran faster and faster until she reached the pub. Exhaustion flooding her lungs, she wrenched open the door and threw herself inside. The dimly lit pub's warm atmosphere and smoky appearance did not sooth Mora as it usually did. Quickly she spotted her friends' table and dragged her tired self towards them.

"It's about time!" Peter squeaked as he waved Mora to their direction.

"Bloody hell Mora, I think we really do need to just carry you every," James laughed, "Would save some time-"

"Mora..." Lily cut her boyfriend off. "Mora, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mora rambled on, "What makes you think something's-"

"You're crying, Mora," Lily said softly.

Mora blinked, and suddenly she too noticed the stream of eerily hot tears streaking down her numb face. "Ooh..." Mora whimpered. Lily rose from her seat instantly, and in true girl fashion, took Mora by the hand and lead her to the lavatory of the pub.

Once the girls reached the bathroom, Lily shut the door behind them, locking it instinctively. The lavatory was not like the ones in the castle, there were no stalls nor circular sinks, in plainest terms, it was a onesie. Mora slinked down to the unclean green tiled ground of the bathroom, leaning up against the wall for support. Sobs overtook Mora as she let her emotions take hold of her. Lily sat beside her, unsure of what to say or how to help her distressed friend.

"Mora," Lily began as Mora's cries began to subdue. "What happened out there? Do you not like it when the guys tease you?"

"No, no it's not Peter or James, or anyone of them," Mora said instantly, her face now red and puffy to the extreme. "Merlin no..."

"Then what?" Lily asked softly, her compassion swelling through her words "Did something happen today? At school?"

Mora shook her head _no._

"Did someone say something to you, or about you?"

Mora shook her head _no_.

"Did something happen out on the street a few minutes ago?"

Mora did nothing.

Lily understood what this lack of affirmation meant. "Did you run into someone-" Lily didn't need to elaborate, as a fresh batch of tears attacked Mora.

"I never thought I would see him again..." Mora winced as she wiped away at her face.

"See who?" Lily asked.

"It's been so many years for him, so few for me..." Mora rambled on, leaving Lily very confused and extremely concerned. "Did he even remember..."

"Who is he, Mora? Did he hurt you?"

"Hurt?" Mora answered back quickly, sarcasm riddled in her tone. "I guess you could say that."

"How do you know him?" Lily asked tenderly, not jumping down Mora's throat with accusations or misleading questions.

Mora took in a deep breath slowly. Lily had no idea that this mystery man was in fact Eric Bayard, and that any of what transpired between him and Mora took place in the nine-teen forties. Maybe there was a way for Mora to talk about this awful experience and begin to heal without divulging to Lily her horrible secret.

"He was in school with me, before I came to Hogwarts," Mora started weakly. "I was new there too. We started out as friends, and then he asked me, well I guess he asked me out on a date, I was just too naive to see what it really was. He wanted to, well, _go further_ than I was willing too."

Lily nodded slightly as she listened to Mora's explanation. Mora never breathed a word of any of this to anyone, expect for a word or two to Tom occasionally. Tom's demeanor was always to cover up Mora's secrets or flaws, he encounters with Erik something he personally wanted to erase. Saying these words, recalling these events and these feelings was very dangerous territory for Mora to enter, and still she did not know now if she was ready or not.

"He got mad." Mora stopped herself as she took another large, loud sniffle. "He started ripping apart my dress..."

"God, Mora..." Lily spoke slowly.

"He didn't, if that's what you're thinking," Mora quickly stated. "He tried, but he never got that chance. Someone saved me in time, but he got away with it all-" The tears were now uncontrollable. "He never left me alone again. The only time I was ever free of him is when I left …"

Mora sat in silence, hearing nothing but the heavy wheezing she poured out from her throat. "How pathetic am I?" she cried.

"No," Lily said instantly. She reached over to Mora and took her hand, interlocking her fingers with Mora's shaking ones. "You are not pathetic. Not at all. He did something awful to you-"

"And I let him..." Mora thought aloud as she store blankly before her.

"What happened to you was not your fault," Lily went on reassuringly. "Mora, he tried to rape you. It is not your fault; it is not anything you did to deserve that."

Mora felt frozen in her spot on the ground. After all those months, not once had anyone ever use that term. No one dared utter such a word, the ugly truth of Eric Bayard's intentions. But it was the truth. He tried to rape her, and he failed.

"He is twisted, he targeted you, and you fought back," Lily said. Gently she reached her free hand to Mora's face, brushing away a clump of brunette hair that had fallen out of her hat. "I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but you're winning, Mora. You are."

"When he gets to me like this, I think that signals defeat," Mora said shortly as she buried her face in the palms of her hands.

"It is not defeat if you feel, if you cry," continued Lily, her warm voice starting to calm Mora. "I see you every day, I see that you're not letting what happened to you destroy the rest of your life. But you need to get this all out, so you can finally move on."

Mora dropped her hands and slowly her swollen blue eyes met Lily's. Mora had known kindness before, but true compassion on such a personal level was still a very new thing for Mora to grasp and fully understand.

Suddenly, a loud, brazen knocking rattled at the door, shattering Mora and Lily's moment of peace. "HURRAY UP IN THERE!" a gruff voice shouted.

_I guess that's what happens when you try to have a conversation in the only lavatory in the entire pub..._ Mora sourly thought to herself .

Lily rolled her eyes as she bounded up from her seat beside Mora. Instantly she shoved her head out the door, and after a quick exchange with the angry man waiting to use the restroom, Lily patiently shut the door as the man shuffled away.

"How'd you manage that?" Mora asked.

"All you have to do is to use the words _feminine problem_ and _that time of the month in_ a sentence, and any guy will run away screaming," Lily announced proudly, causing a smile to come across Mora's face. "Are you going to be alright?"

Mora sighed. "For now," she said honestly. "But, now I know that I am ready," Mora said, preparing her for the leap she was about to take.

_I can trust Lily, I know I can..._

"Ready to tell you...everything."

The common room that late Saturday night was deserted, leaving only a single couple together on a lone arm chair, the redheaded girl sitting atop of the other. The laughed together through the dim haze of the room, just living in that one moment in each others arms.

"My turn," Lily squealed, causing James to instinctively roll his eyes. "Truth or dare?"

"Tough one," James mused, "Alright, give me a truth."

"Tell me why you love me."

"Fishing for compliments today, are we?" James joked as Lily laughed. "I guess the real question is, what don't I love about you? And the answer to that would be your snoring."

Lily smacked James in the shoulder playfully. "You're not playing right!" she complained.

"Alright, alright, seesh," James mumbled. "I love you because you bring out the best in me, you make me all that I can be."

"Or that you can now stare at my arse when I walk off without getting in trouble for it," Lily noted causally.

"That too," James added. "You're up Miss Evans. Truth or dare."

Lily thought the prospect over for a few moments, before answering with a strong "Dare."

"I dare you to flash me," James responded the very moment the word _dare_ escaped into the room.

"James Potter!" Lily exclaimed loudly.

James looked to Lily with pleading eyes. "Please?"

"Truth," Lily retorted.

"You can't play this game right," James sighed. "Fine, fine, truth, well...what color bra are you wearing?"

"Is that seriously all you think about?" Lily asked in annoyance.

"Most of the time, I am human after all," James reminded Lily. "But no, sometimes I think about, you know, our future..."

"Future?" Lily asked excitedly. "Well, where are we?"

"Hmmm, the great seer James Potter prophesies, hypothetically of course, that we'll be somewhere in the country," James began, using his best impression of the airy voice of their former divination professor. "With a big brownish house with one of those porch swings. And of course the house would have to have an attic or something where Sirius could grow old."

"And that's the last addition to our household? Sirius the freeloader?" Lily questioned.

"Course not," James smiled. "No, there's a gaggle of little Potters running all over the place. I finally get my own little Quidditch team..."

"I don't think I can consent to our hypothetical children on broomsticks. They could, well, get hypothetical concussions."

"You see baby Potters too, luv?" James asked.

Lily leaned further into James, nuzzling her head in his shoulder. "More than you can count."

"Well, I guess it's your turn now," James said. "And I pick dare."

"Bold, are we?" Lily smiled, but her enthusiasm dropped off at the prospect of what she was to say next. She made up her mind that night, she was going to tell James, Mora had already agreed to it. "Your dare is to promise not to get mad."

"What could you possibly make me do to get me angry?"

"It's not what I can do, but what I'm going to tell you," Lily went on nervously. "It has to do with Mora."

"What has our dear Miss Ashford done now to get herself in trouble?" James smiled, knowing Mora was a true born Marauder, talent for trouble and not a care in the world about the consequences for some of her rasher actions.

"Not Miss Ashford, James," Lily started. "Mora Cartea."

James felt all the air in his lungs collapse. _Oh Merlin, oh bloody hell..._ His mind rattled off in a dozen different directions, some fearing Mora's identity had been exposed to everyone, and others worried that Lily knew he had been keeping secrets from her.

"Listen, there's some things I need to explain about, about her, its..." James went off nervously. "She, uh...her parents, they're, they-."

"I think you need to work on that if anyone is to ever figure this out, James," Lily hinted. "Calm down, alright?" she went on as she grasped James' hand. "Mora was ready, so she told me."

"When?"

"Today," Lily confessed. "It was a lot to take in, very, very confusing at first, and just-"

"Impossible," James clarified as Lily nodded. There was silence.

"So, you're not backing away from Mora like she's the plague or anything?"

"She's still Mora, I admit it was hard to accept, and to understand," Lily said, "But she's not to blame for what has happened to her."

"Lily," James started, "You know this has nothing to do with me not trusting you, I couldn't tell anyone. Dumbledore asked me-"

"I know, James." Lily smiled. "And I find it incredible and extremely courageous how you were willing to risk your life before you even knew Mora at all."

"And that I, we do, know her..." James muttered on until he strengthened his voice, "We can't lose her, Lily."

Lily looked back to James, her emerald eyes swelling with a sense of courage and affection. She squeezed his hand tightly, and simply said, "We won't."


	29. Run for Cover

29. Run for Cover

"C'mon guys! HUSTLE!" James shouted as he ripped through the air, his fingers gripped tightly around the handle of his broom.

"Why the rush, mate?" Sirius sighed as he leisurely reached James' height in the air hovering over the Quidditch pitch, the rest of the team trailing behind him.

"If you haven't noticed," James persisted anxiously, "The match is in..." James paused as he checked his wrist-watch in anguish, his face horror struck when he looked back to Sirius, "Eighteen hours and forty minutes, and our last practice was a complete disaster!"

"This isn't the world cup or anything, Potter," stated Nathan, a short fourth year who now occupied the keeper's slot on the team. "It's just Hufflepuff."

"Our last match was embarrassing enough, Fawcett," James spat back to Nathan.

"Embarrassing? We won, remember?" Sirius' fellow beater, Quincy, commented coldly.

James glared back at Quincy. "Slytherin was wiping the pitch with us, three hundred to fifty, remember?"

"Right..." Quincy drawled, "We made a few more points, I caught the snitch, we all had our _hurays_, and we won. Nothing to get so antsy over."

"How about you do a hundred laps around the pitch? See whose antsy then..." James ordered as Quincy's face drained of its once haughty expression.

"Ease up, cap' tin," Sirius intervened. "No need to kill the boy before tomorrow, we have no alternates this year, remember?"

"Unfortunately," James grumbled.

"If you haven't noticed, those Hufflepuffs are worlds better than last year," the scruffy sixth year seeker, Benjy, examined as he agreed with James' concern. "They killed Ravenclaw their first game and nearly knocked out half the Slytherin team."

"Nearly being the key word there," Sirius gloated as he playfully tossed the pink and green hearted beaters bat he received on Christmas from hand to the other, "After all, we all know I'm the only guy here who actually have knocked out some Slytherins on the pitch."

"Another reason why last game was humiliating," James groaned as he ruffled his hair back with his free hand.

"Oh c'mon now!" Sirius smirked, "I'm a beater! My job is to knock those sweet little demons off their brooms."

"Yeah, but to nearly snap off Avery's neck and break his shoulder blade so bad that he's out for the rest of the season," James recalled, "I'm just saying, next game with Slytherin won't be all to pleasant."

"Just let them try," Sirius exclaimed, his arrogance shinning through his words. "Those pricks couldn't hit me if..."

A giant roar cracked through the air. Suddenly, Sirius had fallen off of his broomstick, tumbling down to the ground at record speed. James and the other teammates raced to Sirius' aid, but they could not reach him in time. Sirius crashed into the earth, his broom beside him. The rest of the team landed around him as James jumped off his broom to Sirius' side. Sirius lay sprawled out on the dirt of the ground, wincing in pain.

"Bloody hell, what happened?" James asked hastily as he help Sirius lean up.

"Something hit me," Sirius groaned. Just as he said this, the bludger whizzed above their heads once more, causing several of the younger teammates to duck for cover. The bludger soared into the air and disappeared behind the clouds. "Where the bloody hell did that come from?"

"Not where, who," Nathan said. James lifted his gaze up, his eyes now transfixed upon the pair triumphantly giving each other high-fives across the pitch.

"Rosier and Avery," James snarled.

"Why aren't I more surpris-UHHH!" Sirius shouted as he tried to support his own weight on his right arm. "Merlin, I hate karma..."

"Let's get you to the hospital wing, now," James said as he and Nathan helped Sirius stand, one on each side of him.

"Shame really," a voice sneered from across the pitch. Sirius snapped his attention in the sound of the voice, his stare falling upon that of Evan Rosier. "Looks like you'll be needing to find a replacement now for poor little Black there."

"I always wanted to see what Pettigrew looked like on a broom," Tate snickered as the two ran off.

"I swear-" Benjy muttered lowly as he pulled his wand out, ready to run after the pair of Slytherins to attack them.

"Later," James cut him off. "Put that thing away, we've got to get _this_ thing to the hospital wing in one piece before we get back at those gits."

"Avery's got a point though," Quincy reasoned as the group started off towards the hospital wing. "If Sirius can't play tomorrow..."

"It's just a bump," Sirius assured the Gryffindor, "I'll be playing tomorrow guys, no problem."

"What the hell do you mean _I can't play tomorrow_?" Sirius roared from his hospital bed, the flustered James pushing Sirius back into his pillow.

"What I mean is," Madame Pomfrey, the new head nurse at Hogwarts, stated calmly, her eyes narrowing down at Sirius in frustration, "That needs more than a day to heal up. Magic can only help you so much with an injury like that. You'll need to wear a sling for a few weeks, and even after that, do not expect to be playing that barbaric excuse for a spot again until mid-May."

"It's just a little fracture!" James retorted, "Just give him one of those poisons you have, he'll be fine!"

"Mister Potter," Madame Pomfrey snipped, "Those are my orders, this students health is more important than your Quidditch game."

"No, it really isn't..." Sirius muttered under his breath.

"Can't you just, drug him up with something? Just for a few hours, then he'd be right-"

"Mister Potter, that is enough!" Madame Pomfrey demanded before she stormed off into her office.

"The queen has spoken," Sirius sighed.

"I'm sure there's some way," James rattled on, "Something we can give you that could-"

"Mate, it's no use, you heard the scorpion lady," Sirius groaned. "Well, I guess you ought to go find yourself a replacement. Better start now. But remember, Wormtail is a last resort, _dead last._"

"Got it," James answered before taking off out of the hospital wing.

"I haaaaate this," Emmeline groaned as she threw her quill angrily atop her unfinished essay. "Who the hell cares the ratio of ingredients you need for this bloody potion!"

"Slughorn, obviously," Mora answered quickly as she continued to scribble away on her parchment. The light from the sunset glared softly off the window, signaling to the girls they didn't have much time left to complete their assignment if they wanted to finish before dinner.

Lily yawned as she rested her completed essay down on the table. "C'mon now, it wasn't all _that_ bad."

For a few moments Mora and Emmeline simply store back at Lily in disgust and awe, the low roar of the others in the common room disguising the girls' silence. "Lily Evans. Never speak to me again," Emmeline gruffed as she crossed her arms.

"This is a ruddy disaster!" James boomed as he stumbled into the common room.

"Bad day?" Lily asked gently as James stormed up to the table with the three seventh years.

"Bad? How about worst day of my life!" James exclaimed through his exasperation. "First, Avery and Rosier decide to crash _my_ team's practice, then they destroy Sirius' arm-"

"Merlin, is he alright?" Emmeline asked as she cut off James' tirade.

"Just peachy, no Quidditch for him for at least two months, nurses' bloody orders..." James snarled.

"That Pomfrey sure is a heart breaker," Emmeline joked, although James was certainly not in a joking mood.

"So, are you just driven to yell this to everyone in the castle, or is there more?" Mora asked.

"Yeah, there's more!" James snapped. "Now I have to find a replacement whose half decent, and there isn't a single guy left in this house who knows how to fly a broom straight!"

"Calm down, James," Mora said, trying to ease the flustered boy's nerves, "There has to be someone-"

"Well there isn't!" James snapped, much to Mora's annoyance.

"Hold on a second," Emmeline interjected, throwing her brown hair over her shoulder. "_Guys_? Meaning you haven't asked any girls yet?"

James rolled his eyes. "Em, this is serious!"

"Sexiest pig!" Emmeline retorted.

Mora felt a strong wave of anger rush threw her. She hadn't meant for it to, but something inside her had been triggered by James' utter disregard for female strength. Mora was most certainly not a crazy radical "I am woman hear me roar," type, but she certainly knew she was just as or stronger than any man she met on the street. She had been the the nineteen forties, she remembered the way girls were thought as in her sixth year back then. And Mora hoped that ignorance had changed in thirty plus years.

"I am not!" James fired back, "But be realistic here, you honestly thing any girl in this house can fill the spot on the team? Seriously?"

"Maybe you should bother to ask them," Lily snipped at her boyfriend.

"You think I have that kind of time? To hunt down every Gryffindor without a Y chromosome?" James answered back as he threw his hands up into the air.

"You had time to ask all of guys, now didn't you?" Mora added as her ferocity prickled her further.

"Alright, I'll start right here then," James said, "Maybe you'll understand what I've been telling you for the past five minutes. Can _any_ of you play Quidditch at all?"

And then Mora did something she would later think of as utterly stupid. Mora let her anger finally get to her in a way that caused her to blab a certain fact she would rather keep contained. She wanted to prove a larger point, to shove the truth about women into James' face, yet she had not realized that in doing this she revealed another piece of her deserted past.

"Now that's not fair at all," Lily started, "You know that Emmy, Mora, and I aren't-"

"I've been playing Quidditch for years," Mora declared.

And the very second the words escaped her lips, Mora's mind screamed _YOU IDIOT!_

"Are you serious?" James asked, dumfounded by Mora's sudden statement.

"What? You think I'm lying?" Mora said smugly as she rose from her seat. "My old school there was no girls on the Quidditch teams, but I was an exception to the rule."

"Damn..." Emmeline giggled as she watched the anger flare up in Mora's blue eyes.

"Want to prove me wrong?" Mora dared. "Meet me out on the pitch in fifteen minutes, bring with you a beaters bat, one broom, and some bludgers."

"Some?" James echoed. "You think you can handle-"

"Make it ten bludgers then," Mora reasoned before bounding away from the table and into her dormitory.

"I'd be a little scared if I were you, James," Lily warned as James store back to her in shock. "She looked dead serious."

"A little?" Emmeline laughed, "I'd run for cover about now, Potter."

"You made it," Mora called out as James dragged the equipment Mora demanded for behind him.

"I don't see why you couldn't help me out a little with this," James groaned as he reached Mora in the center of the field.

Mora made a small _hmmf_-like sound. "Because the sexiest jerks don't get priority," Mora reasoned.

"Mora, I'm not trying to be sexiest! I'm just, you know..." James started.

"Crunched for time, I know," Mora said as she rolled her eyes. "Then let's get going." Mora grabbed the broom from James, as well as the lone beaters bat.

"Once I get up there, let these things out," Mora explained, motioning to the convulsing crate filled with the deadly bludgers. "Then I suggest you don't get in the way, you might get hit and wind up like Sirius."

"Mora, I, well er..." James stammered off, before silencing himself. "Ten bludgers? You can prove your point without-"

"Oh no, I do need ten, James," Mora smiled as she hopped onto the broomstick and took off into the pink sky. She reached the elevation she desired, high just enough that James could still watch safe on the ground. Mora turned slowly, and for the first time in months she remembered that rush she experienced each time she found herself in the air. Mora lifted her arm from her side, the beaters bat now at eye level. An eerie feeling of familiarity swept through her as she shouted down to James, "Now!"

And with that, James reluctantly opened up the crate. Mora remembered at that moment the last time she had done exactly this.

"_You're not going to do what I think you are…" Eric trailed off, staring at Mora with a strange sense of awe. _

_Her expression filled with determination, Mora pointed her wand one more time at the equipment before safely storing it back inside her robes. A bludger jumped off the earth, ripping through the murky clouds. Mora could see the two boys out of the corner of her eye lurch forward. Ignoring their protectiveness, Mora watched as the bludger bounder into sight, hireling itself at top speed towards her head. Quickly, Mora met the bludger head on, the impact of the orb with her bat ear shattering. The bludger bounced back harshly, but quickly regained strength. It came charging towards Mora again. Like before, she whacked it back, forming a large gapping hole in one of the clouds. _

_But this bludger wasn't finished. It returned a third time, fiercer and seemingly angrier than before. Forming a zig-zag like path, the bludger zoomed back. Shooting itself at Mora's skull, Mora stuck the bludger one final time. Just as it happened in her memory, the bludger harshly sunk to the ground, being struggled back into the trunk. The trunk snapped shut, shaking up and down from the bludger's protest._

_Flipping the bat into her opposite hand, Mora turned back to Eric and Tom, whose mouths seemed to for perfect O's. The each store back at Mora, their expression filled with a strange, new sense of awe. _

But this time was different. This time Mora would outdo herself, alone against ten bludgers. It was a challenge Mora was not sure that she could handle herself, but she sure as hell needed to try. This was different, she wasn't putting on a show for Tom or Eric, she wasn't trying to explain one of her memories of her brother that struck her moments before that display. This time, she was ready, she was focused, and best of all, she was angry.

The first bludger charged directly at her face, the speed of it rivaling that of the nine trailing orbs. Refusing the urge to duck for safety, Mora met the bludger head on, and with one motion she whacked at the ball. The force of the hit was so strong it stung across the grounds. The bludger fell back instantly, knocking two more with it to the ground.

_Seven to go..._ Mora thought to herself as she soared across the sky. Two bludgers now fired themselves at her, one in each direction. Just as they were both to strike her, Mora dived down several meters and the two orbs crashed into each other, the impact destroying both of them. _Five..._

Giving her no time to regroup, the next bludger collided with the end of Mora's broom. This sent Mora spinning through the air, grasping onto her broom for dear life. Mora regained her composure as she struck another bludger that attacked her from the opposite side. Mora then caught sight of the three bludgers she had beaten back earlier, now charging towards her with full force.

_Make that eight_... Mora groaned inwardly.

As Mora continued to destroy the deathly bludgers, James watched from below. He felt completely awestricken as he watched the brunette fight with suck intensity. With another blow Mora again completely destroyed two more bludgers and reduced them to nothing but a pile of ash as it scattered to the ground. Now only six bludgers remained in the air, and Mora showed no sign of fatigue.

"JAMES!" Mora shouted, the sound of her scream ripping James away from his thoughts. "Open the chest!" she called down as she chased the bludgers in circles. James instantly leapt down to the crate and forced open the lid. The sound of a collision echoed across the pitch, and James caught sight of two bludgers catapulting down to the ground. With absolute accuracy the crashed into the crate, and instinctively James threw the lid back down, entrapping them.

"OPEN!" Mora yelled. Again James creaked open the chest, this time wary not to let the other bludgers out. The bludgers threw themselves at the interior of the crate, trying to break free. Just as the next orb cascaded towards him, James opened the lid and then snapped it closed, hoping to Merlin he had not let another bludger out. And much to his luck, all three bludgers were safely stored in the crate.

James cast his eyes back to Mora in the air as she struck another bludger, this one dropped to the ground instantly, and for some reason it did not soar back into the sky. Mora dodged the last bludger, narrowly escaping a nasty collision. Retaliating, she released another strong hit, sending the bludger to the ground. "Get it James!" she yelled down to you.

The bludger landed a few meters away from James' feet. Before it could throw itself back into the air, James lunged on top of it. The force of the bludger was much stronger than he anticipated as he struggled with the menacing orb. Heaving himself towards the crate, James barely kept the bludger in his grasp as he forced it into the cradle of his arms. The bludger powered forward, nearly dragging James up into the sky with it. But James managed to slam the bludger into the crate with the others before it had the chance.

Mora soared back to the ground, landing besides James with a cheery expression upon her face. "Looks like you got more of a work out than I did," Mora examined as she noticed James' heavy breathing after his tussle with the bludger.

"Merlin, Mora..." James said, his hazel eyes bulging from his skull.

"I know," Mora said remorsefully. "You think they'll make me pay for the ones I destroyed? And, that one..." Mora said as she pointed to the lifeless bludger lying in the grass. "Did I break that one?"

"Where did you learn that!" James asked eagerly, not able to conceal his own joy.

Mora looked down to the bludgers bat, a smile creeping over her face as she remembered that day so many years ago. "My brother, Ardien," she said simply. "Before everything, you know, the first tempari and all. It remembered it, same way I remembered that _je parle français_."

"And what you said, about playing at your old school?" James asked cautiously.

"Truth, well, somewhat. I played on this very pitch, under the Slytherin banner," Mora explained. "See? Even those pricks needed me on their team. You on the other hand..."

"If I grovel will you do it?" James asked instantly.

"First admit that you will never be as strong as any woman on earth," Mora teased as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Fine, fine, I am a weak little man and I'm not worthy," James answered.

"With feeling next time," Mora sighed, "But alright, I'll do it."


	30. Notions and Nerves

30. Notions and Nerves

Reamus twiddled his fingers together anxiously, sitting on the edge of his seat. The morning turned harsh upon them, dark skies and occasional bursts of rain not welcoming for the match. The stands of the Quidditch pitch where dank and miserable, but despite the horrid weather nearly the entire school turned out to witness the exciting match. His cloak hung tightly around him as the moisture of it began to soak through to his own clothes. This afternoon was going to be dreadful for Reamus, and the awful weather was a sign. A bad omen for Reamus to recognize and fear.

Reamus sighed shortly, his breath quick as the movement of his thumbs hastened. The showers started up again, pelting the spectators with more rain. Of course, you assumed the rain would chase away at least some of the usual crowd, but even more seemed to come. It wasn't as if this were a playoff game or anything, there was nothing particularly alluring to it. A simple Hufflepuff against Gryffindor set up, not as thrilling as it would be to watch his home team face off with Slytherin.

But Reamus knew it was certainly not the thrill of the sport that drew students out of the castle to the stadium that afternoon. The rumors spread like the plague across the school in the matter of hours. Gossip of Sirius' injuries, some saying he was brutally attacked, others injuring it was his own clumsy fault, began to swell the moment after Sirius fell to the ground in practice yesterday afternoon. But it was the whispers of his replacement, the Gryffindor who filled his slot on the team for this match. No one could imagine who James Potter could find who could ever replace Sirius, but when he pulled out the most unexpected person in the entire house, this Quidditch match became the highlight of the year.

No one would ever imagine James to pick Mora Ashford to take the open spot on the team. The new girl who half the school had never heard of before last night, and now her name was on everyone's lips. No one knew what to expect of Mora's performance, whether she be brilliant or a big flop. No one but James that is, who saw Mora's breathtaking skill last evening. Reamus had only heard of Mora's talent of the sport from James' excited babbling, and a modest _I'm good I guess _from Mora herself. Despite James' utmost confidence in Mora, Reamus could not help but worry.

"Why so blue Lupin?" a cheerful voice greeted as Emmeline sat beside Reamus.

Reamus looked up to the grinning Emmeline, somewhat startled. "It's hard to be happy and peppy with this kind of weather," he answered.

"True," Emmeline said, "But that's not what's bothering you, right?"

"It really creeps me out how well you know me, Emmy," Reamus sighed, a small smile overcoming his scowl.

"I'm just a naturally creepy person," Emmeline smiled. "So what is it then?"

"Just nervous," Reamus confessed briefly.

"For what? Mora's grand debut?" Emmeline questioned. "C'mon mate, you now she'll be great. Mora's a little bi-"

"I know she's tough," Reamus interjected, "I just have, you now...a feeling."

"Bad feeling?" Emmeline asked.

"No, a warm fuzzy unicorns-and-rainbows type feeling," Reamus rushed out sarcastically. "Of course a bad one."

"Well, get over it," Emmeline addressed bluntly. "Mora'll be great, you just wait and see."

_Merlin I hope she's right,_ Reamus thought to himself. Even though he didn't entirely believe Emmeline was right, she still seemed to ease Reamus' nerves. Emmeline always had that affect on Reamus, that no matter what was happening, either some horrifying event or another mundane aspect of the day, she made him feel at home.

"Afternoon all," Sirius greeted as she shoved his way in between Reamus and Emmeline, much to Reamus' frustration. Sirius shoved Reamus another few inches as he made himself more comfortable, now fully adorned in his new sling.

"Here he is, the wounded little puppy dog himself," Emmeline smiled, receiving an annoyed glare from Sirius.

"Who are you calling a wounded puppy?" Sirius retorted, waving his sling-ed arm around. "After all, the ladies love a man with a battle scar."

"Are these ladies blind?" Reamus questioned. "Or horribly deformed?"

"Ha-ha," Sirius groaned. "Hopefully our dear Mora can withstand this game."

"Uggg," Emmeline sounded as she crossed her arms in annoyance, "What is wrong with you two? Mora will do great, so shut up and watch the bloody match."

"Yes mum," Sirius muttered.

"Look! Here they come!" Emmeline squealed as she jumped off her seat. The stadium was on its feet, roaring in applause as the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams soared out onto the pitch.

_Here goes nothing…_

Mora remembered this feeling from what seemed like lifetimes ago. She remembered every inch of the Quidditch stadium, the buzz of her peers in the stands, the angry glares from the opposing team. If Mora closed her eyes, she thought she was back on her original team. The first time she ever competed on the Hogwarts pitch, she played under the green Slytherin banner. The roughest, dirtiest players in the school's history, and back then Mora was proud to play beside them. She became even more aggressive when she played with them, which was almost dangerous for a person with Mora's skill.

But what Mora remembered the most about Quidditch was the way it made her feel. The burst of excitement and the rush inside of her. It was like the word couldn't touch her, like Mora wasn't just some nobody, she wasn't the little orphan with no past, like everything that every befell her simply melted away. Nothing could compare with that feeling.

But ever since this year began, Mora convinced herself to forget her love for the sport. Too many memories of her past intertwined with Quidditch, her brother Ardien and the rest of her lost family, and a few people from her time in Slytherin. Mora was on that team, in that locker room when Eric began to make his interests in her known. It was through Quidditch that Mora became closer to Tom. It was during a match that Tom's pet name for her, _Ra Ra_, was created. Quidditch was such a big part of her life, and when Mora threw that part of her out the window, she felt something inside of her snap away.

And now, as Mora flew with the rest of the Gryffindor team threw the cloudy, gray sky, she felt that piece of her revived. It didn't matter that the game reminded Mora of Tom and Eric, or all of those bloody Slytherins, nothing could touch Mora now. Quidditch was Ardien's lasting gift to Mora, and she would be dammed if she tried to forget her big brother just to protect herself.

Mora gripped tightly to the beater's bat, the bright pink and green hearted surface shinning in the musky sky. Mora smiled as she held the ridiculously flamboyant bat. Sirius insisted she use it in today's game, as a sort of morale booster. Mora smiled as she clutched her own Christmas gift, Sirius was right, it did ease her nerves.

As Mora continued to circle the pitch, she watched the judging eyes of the other team. The Hogwarts teams had only seen four other girls play Quidditch since Mora's Slytherin days. The idea of a girl playing on any of the four teams seemed foreign to this generation of students. It made Mora want to either burst out laughing or punch someone in the face. They had no idea how wrong they were, how idiotic their notion that girl's couldn't compete with this shrimpy little guys. Mora knew she could wipe the floor with the entire Hufflepuff team, but since she wasn't a boy it was such a taboo thing for her to say.

The sound of a whistle ripped through the stadium. The two teams dove towards the center of the pitch, each hovering on their respected sides. Mora watched as James and the Hufflepuff caption, a pudgy sixth year, shook hands on the ground. With that, the snitch dodged away from sight, and directly after the quaffle was thrown into the air.

And with that, the game had begun.

"AND FENWICK SEE'S THE SNITCH!"

Mora smiled slightly before soaring off in the opposite direction, spotting a loose bludger rocketing away. She was already twenty four minutes into the match, and Mora felt as if she hadn't been off a broom these past months. In those short twenty four minutes, Mora managed to live up to all the whispers flying across the student body that morning. No one expected Mora to be amazing at the sport, let alone knock a third of the Hufflepuff team and have the rest of them scared to death in a few short moments. It defiantly shook apart the Hufflepuffs' game.

_Well, if I thought I could lose a limb at any moment, I wouldn't care so much about scoring points either,_ Mora reasoned with herself.

Mora ripped through the heavy clouds. She reared back her bat as she drew closer upon the bludger. In one motion, she sent the deadly orb plummeting safely away from Benjy as he pursued the snitch.

"Oooo! That had to hurt!" The announcer, a fifth year Ravenclaw with a scratchy, high voice commentated. "Ashford slams a bludger to the end of Barnes' broom, sending him flipping through the air! Ought to be hard catching up to Fenwick now."

Mora grinned as she watched the Hufflepuff hurtling through the air as he clutched to his broom. She didn't want to hurt anyone on the opposing team, that was just how the game was played. So, she focused mainly on protecting her team, but did manage to knick a few.

_Eh, it's just a few scratches,_ Mora thought. _And a shattered collar bone or two, nothing the hospital wing can't fix up in a second..._

"AND FENWICK HAS THE SNITCH!" The Ravenclaw commentator hollered. "Gryffindor wins this one, two hundred and seventy-five to fifty, crushing defeat for the badgers."

Mora celebrated along with the team as she joined them in the middle of the sky. "The star player!" Nathan announced as Mora reached them, causing the other Gryffindors to cheer.

"No, just a replacement," Mora interjected, but she was quickly droned out by the excited shouts of the other players.

"And amazing match today!" The announcer continued, his nagging voice booming across the grounds. "Thanks to the lovely and talented replacement for Sirius Black, whose now sporting a very chick sling by the way, Mora Ashford! What a beast!"

"Beast?" Mora echoed. "That's kinda creepy-"

"It's dead-on and you know it!" James laughed. "To the Beast!" He announced as the Gryffindors burst out into a new round of cheers.


	31. Sticky Situations

31. Sticky Situations

"Not to be a downer or anything," Lily stated, gazing around the common room with mild horror, "But it looks like a troll tore this place apart."

And she was absolutely correct. The after game celebrations carried on in Gryffindor tower directly following the game, stretching into the late hours of the evening. Garbage coated the carpeted floor, mainly consisting of empty cups and ripped gold and red streamers. The rest of the house had retired for the night, exhausting after celebrating the sweeping victory in the match. All that lingered in the common room were a usual seven students, glowing in the firelight.

"Kiss now, clean later," James groaned, leaning over to Lily beside him on the sofa.

Rolling her eyes, Lily pushed James face away with her open palm. "Clean now, or no kisses ever."

James looked to her before tossing his head back into the surface of the plush couch. "Too lazy," he moaned.

"Your loss," Lily warned, grinning as she watch James moan in distress.

"C'mon Lily," Reamus chimed in, "You might as well kill him now with a threat like that."

"We all know she wants to try her hand at homicide," Emmeline smiled, "At least once."

"What makes you think she hasn't already," Sirius hinted. "No one can be that polite and not be a physco-killer."

"Piss off," Lily sighed, shaking her head.

"See what I mean?" Sirius added.

"Padfoot, stop accusing my girlfriend of being a serial killer," James sounded, his eyes clenched shut. "Not nice."

"And while you're at it, could you get off me?" Mora squeaked. She thought she could avoid being all snuggles for the remainder of the evening when she picked and armchair to reside in. That was until Sirius decided to jump on top of her and refuse to move.

"I'm crippled, remember?" Sirius said, motioning with his slinged arm. "Besides, I'm sure you're strong enough to hold me for a while..."

"You were strong enough to destroy Lynch's broom in the first three minutes of the match," Peter reminded, "And to shatter the seeker's collar bone, and nearly decapitated the everyone else on the team at least four times each."

"They don't call me a beast for nothing," Mora smiled triumphantly.

"Yeah, well don't get to comfortable there Beast," Sirius said quickly, "Once this thing heals up, I'm taking my pretty pink bat back."

"I dunno Sirius," James said, leaning forward, "The Beast sure does give you a run for your money..."

"I can be a beast too!" Sirius yelled defensively, "Hello! That's the entire reason why my arm is destroyed, I mean, they put out a bloody hit on me!"

"That could just be because of your abrasive and annoying personality," Emmeline said.

"Or you arrogant _la-la-la-look-at-me_ attitude..." Lily added.

"Or maybe that scratchy thing you do with your voice when you get really mad," Mora said.

"I don't do a scratchy-thing!" Sirius defended.

"Yeah! I heard it too!" Peter agreed excitedly. "Yeah, you kinda sound like a girl-"

"Shut your trap, Wormtail," Sirius warned, instantly silencing the boy.

"Don't take it out on him just because your feminine, Black," Mora snapped.

"I'm just as feminine as you are-"

"Are you saying I'm not girly enough for you?" Mora asked in frustration, "I play one match and all of a sudden I should grow a beard?"

"Don't get all offended," Sirius said, shaking his hair out of his eyes leisurely, "It's just, you know, you're just, well...yeah, you're not girly." With this Mora promptly tossed Sirius to the ground. He landed with a groan as Mora jumped to her feet.

"And what's wrong with that?" Mora argued back, placing her hands on her hips.

"Here they go again..." Emmeline sighed.

"Cleaning!" James jumped out of his seat. "Let's clean!" At once the other four leapt from their places and began to bustle about the common room, anything to avoid listening to another Mora vs. Sirius battle. The two were mates, of course. But the few occasions they locked horns were not memorable. Their arguments quickly evolved into something very ugly.

"Nothing wrong with it," Sirius said as he stood up, "But-"

"You never seemed to mention this until now," Mora jumped in, "What? You see me play one competitive game and all of a sudden I'm not feminine anymore? I can still be a girl AND kick your arse-"

"Mora, you were absolutely vicious! Scary violent, I mean, you honestly think any other girl around here can do that and then go read _Witch's Weekly,_ it's one or the other," Sirius said.

"Being a girl has nothing to do with trashy magazines, Sirius-"

"Of course it does!" Sirius yelled. "Are you kidding-"

"ALRIGHT!" Emmeline intervened as she stormed over towards the two. "I'm settling this right now. You," she said as he turned Mora, "You instigated the argument and twisted words around, that's a no-no. And you were completely vicious during the game today, which we had never really seen before. And you," she continued, facing Sirius, "Some girls are obsessed with their gossip magazines and what not, but it doesn't mean all girls do, and if you don't it doesn't mean ever feminine bone in your body has been zapped out."

Sirius rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth, ready to retort Emmeline's comments, but she shushed him instantly. "And!" Emmeline added, "You're just getting on her case because you think Mora completely showed you up today, and the entire school thinks a girl is better than you. Well NEWS FLASH! Mora is better than you; it has nothing to do with her being a girl; it doesn't mean you're not great too. So both of you, get over it."

"The queen has spoken," Mora noted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You bet she has," Emmeline added as she strode back across the common room before disappearing up the staircase.

"Amen," Sirius said as Emmeline disappeared from view. "Merlin, does that girl have anything better to do than sticking her nose in other people's business?"

"Nope," Peter said, his arms overflowing with trash as he circled the room. "But she's right."

"Truce then?" Sirius shrugged to Mora.

"For now," she said stiffly, "But you're still wrong."

"Am not! You bloody-"

"COOL IT!" James hissed. "Before we wake up the entire house. Bloody hell..."

"Night then," Sirius said under his breath as he stormed away. He hurried up the second staircase, leaving the rest of his friends behind in the destroyed common room. Sirius didn't necessarily feel angry, just frustrated. Annoyed that Mora Ashford could get him so riled up. How when they disagreed on the smallest point, she always found a way to rub his nose in her opinions. Sometimes he wished he could throw Mora Ashford off the Astronomy Tower, just for kicks.

And it made him adore her even more.

Why was it Sirius could not get Mora Ashford out of his system? He refused to believe it was anything more than a little crush. A very drawn out, simple, non-obsessive school boy crush. It would pass in time.

_Even though it's been months now and I can't get the ruddy girl out of my head..._ Sirius reminded himself as he threw himself on to his bed in the dormitory. He store up at the ceiling above his bed, and in the darkness all he could see still was her face.

_Hell_! He cursed himself. _Even when she annoys the crap out of my, after we have ANOTHER row and I can't stand her, I can't stop thinking about her!_

But it was still a crush. An unbearable, never ending, strong, burning, senseless, passionate, insane, irrational, ridiculous, silent, scorching, foolish, nagging, painful, blissful, burden of a crush. Just the kind of infatuation that every once in a while kept him up at night, made him stare off in her direction in class instead of his usual brain-dead state. The sort of crush that everyone experience once in their lives, right? Sirius convinced himself that every guy had to have one of these kind of stab-my-eyes-out crush in order to _come of age_ or whatever the hell they called it.

Sirius knew it couldn't be more than a crush. A silly little crush where he went ga-ga for a girl, just another girl. He knew that was all. Sirius was absolutely, one hundred and a gazillion percent sure it could never be..._that_.

That awful word that encompassed Sirius worst nightmare. The idea of being chained down to one person for the rest of his life. To be forced to be with that one nag for eternity, just so he could watch his life be ripped away from him and replaced with some tedious job, fixing some broken appliance around the house every day, being overrun with millions of tiny babies, growing into some bitter old man the moment he said _I do_. To in essence, become a carbon copy of his old man.

That word that meant the world wasn't worth being a part of without her.

"I don't love her..." Sirius mumbled. "I don't love her, I do not love her, I do not love her, I don't, I don't, I don't, I don't, I don't, I don't!"

No, he could not love Mora Ashford. If he did, it would mean Sirius Black was not the same shallow person everyone in the world saw when they looked at him. The Sirius people in this castle admired, idolized, wanted to be like. And he had to be exactly that, and air head with a pretty face. That was all his mum ever saw, his dad preferred not to look Sirius in the eye, and his brother took pure joy out of constant taunting. Sirius Black, deep? Not in a million years.

"I don't love her," he repeated.

There would be a new girl. Some random student he would notice one day walking down the hall. And the sight of her would wipe away and silly ideas about Mora Ashford right out of his thick head. There would always be another girl. That was all Sirius cared about, he didn't need something complex, something that was more than something physical, all he needed was a new girl every week and he could die a happy man.

"I don't love her," Sirius affirmed. "I don't love her, I don't love her, I love her, I-"

_Oh hell._

"I love her."


	32. The Trophy Room

32. The Trophy Room

"Brilliant, just bloody brilliant..." Severus moaned as he, Colton, and Tate stepped out of Transfiguration class that afternoon.

Halfway through the lecture the small group of Slytherins was greeted with a nasty surprise, their robes and school uniforms on their very backs shrinking. The boys now walked down the corridor, robes hitting their waist, buttons on their shirts exploded off, pants legs at their knees and cutting off their circulation, and their mid-drifts exposed for the entire world to see. Thanks to the handiwork of a few students calling themselves calling themselves the Marauders.

"You'd think after seven years that scum might have matured up a bit," Tate commented, uncomfortably attempting to pull down his miniature shirt.

"Humiliating, every time," Colton muttered under his breath. A wolf whistle suddenly ripped through the hall, followed by the hysterics of the students. "Utterly pathetic. We need payback, and fast-"

"Looking good Bayard!" the haughty voice of Sirius Black jested. Grudgefully Colton turned to see the usual group of filth passing them. Potter, Pettigrew, Lupin, and Black, the three girls who usually tagged after them like lost puppies were absent from sight.

"Putting on some weight there, Snape?" Reamus commented, "May want to lay off the chocolate frogs there, if you're going to wear such a figure flattering outfit…"

"Keep your mouth shut Lupin!" Severus shouted, snapping out of his attempted cool composure.

"Did you see the look on Eloise Zabini's face?" James said, instantly causing Tate's face to turn red at the sound of his girlfriend's name. "I'm sure she's never seen _that_ much of dear Avery since they've been dating!"

"You're one to talk about my girlfriend, Potter," Tate spat, stopping the Marauders' walk down the hall as h jumped before them. "At least she's not some prissy, overbearing mudblood like-"

Without even blinking, James ripped his wand out from his robes. Leaping towards the Slytherin, James pressed his wand underneath Tate's chin threateningly. Instantly the three remaining Marauders joined behind James, hoping to avoid this tussle. As did Severus and Colton, who raised their own wands in Tate's defense.

"Don't you ever," James warned, "EVER, say a single word about Lily, understand?"

"What are you gonna do, Potter?" Snape said, "Run home and cry to mummy?"

"What is going on out here?" the commanding voice of McGonagall boomed as she entered the corridor. "Enough! Separate now, boys; five points from Slytherin and Gryffindor for this conduct."

Regretfully James lowered his wand, stepping away from Tate. "Return to your respective house immediately! And, you lot," she added, turning towards the three Slytherins, "Please find a..._suitable_ change of clothing."

With this, McGonagall turned swiftly, returning to her classroom as along the way she shooed on looking students away. After the professor disappeared once again within the crowd of the corridor, Colton turned, only to see the four Gryffindors had vanished.

"I swear, when I see that Potter again-"

"You'll do nothing," Severus intervened, his blunt honesty somewhat upsetting to Tate. The three continued their walk to Slytherin house. "And we all know it."

"That's it, isn't it Snape?" Tate argued, "Just take this little stunt just like you do every other? Sorry if I'm not spineless like you..."

"I'm not even dignifying your stupidity with a response," Severus drawled.

"Shut it, both of you," Colton snapped as the group descended down the first flight of stairs towards to dungeons.

"You said it yourself, Cole," Tate went on, "Payback. I'm all for it."

Colton could not help but feel a smug smile come across his lips. One thing he hated the most in this entire school besides, naturally, Dumbledore, had to be that bumbling group of Gryffindor trash. Ever since his first year Colton loathed all of them. And somehow every year those Marauders found dozens of ways to humiliate and mortify him again and again before all of his peers.

_Not anymore..._ Colton thought to himself. Sure, he and his fellow Slytherins often found ways to mess with the Marauders in retribution, but never had the planned on extracting such extensive vengeance. They were not kids anymore, they were ready to run out in play in the real world, in the real war. Why not stir up some adult type retaliation to put that group of mudbloods and blood traitors in their place?

"We need something big, something that'll clam up those _Marauders_ for good," Colton said, "If not all of them, then at least their little ringleaders, Potter and Black..."

"Sounds great to me," Tate said eagerly.

"Unfortunately the Cruciatus Curse isn't nearly brutal enough..." Colton drawled.

"Phfft," Severus sounded under his breath, although it did not go un noticed.

"Like to share, Sev?" Colton snapped.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Severus began. "If you want to hurt Potter, there's only two things in this entire world that can break him: the greater of the two being a certain redhead."

"Go after his girl to get to Potter," Tate rephrased as Snape nodded, beaming brightly.

"Brilliant," Colton congratulated.

"And what about Black?" Tate asked, "Merlin knows that character doesn't give a rat's arse about any girl he's ever dated."

Colton felt his smile double in size. No, they were not going to target any of the infamous Sirius Black's exs. None of them truly mattered to that pompous git. Yet Colton knew exactly who Sirius cared for above all else in this castle, even if Sirius refused to admit it to himself. Just from seeing the way he looked at her, Colton knew Sirius was crazy for her.

_The bigger the crush, the harder the fall..._

"Ashford."

Within a few moments, Severus and Tate understood what Colton was referring too. "Black...and _Mora_?" Tate echoed.

"He wishes," Severus laughed. He turned back to Colton. "What are you going to do?"

Colton stopped before the entrance to the Slytherin common room. "What Black won't do. You two take care of the Evans girl, leave Mora to me."

zszszszszszszszszszszszsz

Night always enveloped the castle in the same, eerie manner. Whenever Mora walked the corridors alone in the dark, she always feared something may pop out of a corner somewhere behind her. The castle did not seem like her warm and inviting home during these hours, yet a place that often offered many tight situations for Mora.

Mora shook her fears from her mind as she slung her bookbag over her opposite shoulder. She had left Lily in the library, unable to look at the same, dull six foot long parchment full of notes for another second. It was still before curfew, yet the halls remained vacant. All the seventh years remained locked away in their respective houses or the library, still cramming in hopes the rest of their practice NEWTS may go somewhat smoothly. All underclassmen lounged in their seclusion, knowing they still had time before their exams.

Everything in the seventh years' lives theses past few weeks revolved around these practice tests. Sure, they really didn't mean anything, the grade was not final, nor did it count at all. But if you miserably failed every one of your practice tests, the school "strongly recommended" you take a course for the rest of the year, in order to prepare for the NEWTS. These classes basically destroyed a seventh year's Friday and Saturday evenings, leaving their social lives in catastrophe. Of course, this caused a mass panic within the senior population and massive cramming sessions.

Mora hardly cared about anything else besides studying the past few days. She knew she looked like a complete mess at the moment. Still clad in her school uniform, her knee socks began to awkwardly slide down her calves, her skirt hung loosely against her untucked shirt, and her tie and robe were nowhere to be seen.

Mora sighed lightly as she again moved her heavy bag. Out of the corner of her eye, Mora noticed something moving against the wall. It was a tiny, cream colored fluff. Stopping and peering into the darkness, Mora realized it was a small kitten, a bright red color hanging loosely over its tiny neck. Mora knew whose pet this was, as its owner never let the small creature out of his sight. The cat, named affectionately Bentley, belonged the Benjy Fenwick, a fellow Gryffindor, also on the Quidditch team with Mora.

_If Benjy's so ridiculously overprotective of Bentley_, Mora thought to herself, _How did he get out of Benjy's sight and all the way down here?_ Bentley scampered further down the hall, disappearing behind a corner. Mora knew Benjy must be having a heart attack over his missing pet. Instantly Mora decided to follow the kitten, to try to catch him and return him to his owner.

Mora followed on down the corridor. Every time she moved the snatch up the kitten, he seemed to wriggle away from her grasp. Hopefully Mora could corner him soon, she did not like the idea of chasing Bentley all night. Racing even further ahead of her, the kitten disappeared inside a room, and Mora entered behind him.

Mora looked about the hall in awe. She had never been in such a room, she did not even realize Hogwarts had a chamber such as this. It was lined with shelves upon shelves of glittering trophies. The golds and silvers of the room sparkled so brightly, it added a small, warm light on such a gloomy evening. Completely forgetting about Bentley, Mora found herself walking down the aisles of the room, examining the awards in wonder. Finally, she managed to fall upon a certain plaque, something that had long been forgotten by all others at Hogwarts.

Yet the moment Mora's eyes fell upon, the same, strange sense of shame rose inside her. A small, simple gold shield resting upon the third self in this endless room drew Mora in. The words etched into its dulled surface haunted Mora the moment she read them.

_**Tom Riddle**_

_**Award for Special Services to the School.**_

"Nosey, are we?"

Mora gasped, spinning around to see Colton Bayard standing at the other end of the aisle. Bentley was in his arms, purring sweetly. Noting Mora's puzzled expression, Colton pointed his wand directly towards the cream colored kitten. Suddenly Bentley's fur melted away, revealing the creature in Colton's arms was not Bentley at all. Now a scrawny mud colored owl sat in his grasp. Colton released the bird into the air, and it screeched as it escaped into the high ceilings and disappeared in the rafters.

Mora looked back to Colton, confusion overcoming her. Colton had known Mora would follow that cat, he lead her here for a reason. Was this all some elaborate trap? What could Colton possibly want from Mora that he dragged her all the way out here?

"Just enjoying the decoration," Mora answered back coldly. "What's going on?"

"Just thought we could use a little more time to," Colton began, taking a few steps forward until he was only a foot before Mora, "Get to know each other."

"Right, because chewing off my ear with your stupidity everyday in class isn't cozy enough for you," Mora snapped, slowly pushing her hand into her pocket for her wand. But Colton beat her to it, ripping out his own wand.

"_Accio Wand!_" Instantly, Mora's wand soared away from her. It landed in Colton's hand with a soft thud. Anxiety rose inside of Mora, as she now realized how much danger she may be in. Determined not to falter, she store back at Colton, unarmed, yet still as stubborn as ever.

_Alone and defenseless with a Bayard is always code for trouble, _Mora thought to herself bitterly as Colton drew closer.

"Funny," Mora said, "I didn't know a little chit chat meant you needed my wand, Bayard."

"Just thought I'd remove the temptation," he answered haughtily.

"Fine, Bayard, have it your way," Mora instigated. "Say whatever the bloody hell you want, so we can just get on with our lives."

Colton's smile widened sickeningly. "Who said anything about talking?"

Mora watched that signature Bayard flicker of deviousness swell inside Colton's eyes, and instantly Mora knew what was about to happen. Before she had the chance to run, Colton lunged forward and grabbed hold of her shoulders. Pulling her into him, Colton claimed Mora's lips in a frightening, forceful kiss. Mora pushed him away instantly. Colton stumbled backwards, regaining his balance only to see Mora had disappeared.

Mora dodged into another aisle, running towards the door. Mora never wanted to show how venerable she was to someone like Colton. Whenever she looked at him, all she could hear was Eric's voice ringing in her ears, bringing back nightmares of her Slytherin days. Memories of Eric Bayard certainly plagued Mora's deepest fears, next to Tom. And now, when Colton kissed her, Mora's nightmare leapt into reality.

Mora raced through the trophy room, the door coming in closer view. She powered herself further, only to see the door slam shut. "Leaving so soon?" Colton sniggered as Mora reached the door. She pulled at the door knob, trying with all her might to twist to her freedom, however it would not budge. She felt his hand grip her shoulder, flipping her to face him, her back pinning up against the door.

"Colton! STOP!" Mora shouted, pushing him away. But with every push she gave him, Colton shoved her back twice as hard.

"GET OFF!" Mora warned again as Colton laughed. Putting all her strength into one blow, Mora raised her arm, punching Colton in the jaw. He moaned, reaching for his face in agony. Taking her window of opportunity, Mora knocked Colton down to the ground, forcing herself away from the door.

Leaving Colton on the floor, Mora rushed back into the body of the Trophy Room, racing back to where Colton had tossed her wand. But she was not fast enough.

"_Imperio_."


	33. Under the Influence

33. Under the Influence

The curse crashed over Mora like a wave of calm.

Everything seemed to melt away. She was no longer running, so could not feel the fear pulsing through her mind, everything was light and easy. The horror of Colton attacking her erased itself from her mind. She felt like she was floating, separated from her body and hovering above the scene in the trophy room. All was still.

_Turn around._ A voice in her mind beckoned. She obeyed, again facing in the direction of the exit. Colton had risen to his feet, his wand still pointed at Mora, his face overtaken with delightful surprise.

_Come here._

Colton smirked as he watched Mora walk with ease towards him. Never had Colton imagined he could produce an unforgivable. He was, after all, a seventh year, amongst the top in his class in Slytherin, surely if anyone could create a strong Imperius, it would be him. Yet Colton held his anxiety over casting the curse from the moment he decided what he wanted to. If he failed, he would be facing one very angry and vicious Mora Ashford; they didn't call that girl _the Beast_ for nothing.

Everything was going perfectly according to plan. Any minute now the four Gryffindors, Black included, would barge into the door to report for their impromptu detention. Little did they know what they would find. And while this was happening, Potter's girl would be left defenseless, no sniveling little boyfriend to fight off Avery and Snape.

Mora finally reached Colton, the cloudy dullness of her eyes proving she was still underneath his control. With another flick of his wand, his plot of revenge was fully underway, Mora kissing Colton with as much enthusiasm as Colton hoped for.

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"Would you hurry up back there?" James snapped as Peter trudged along behind. "Rudy hell, Wormtail, don't make me carry you the rest of the way."

The boy heaved a great breath before trotting up to meet James. "I'm sorry," he wheezed, "I'm just not all that enthusiastic about getting there all that fast, is all."

"Oh gee, cause I love a good detention," James said, rolling his eyes. "You know if we don't get there bloody five minutes early that old bat Filch'll make us stay an hour late."

"It's not like you have anywhere to be tonight, mate," Peter added, heaving the two large buckets down the hall with great frustration.

"Still," James said, finally taking notice to Peter's struggle with his load. James lifted one bucket with ease away from Peter. "Spending my night scrubbing down the trophy room isn't my idea of a good time."

"Could be worse," Peter mused.

"Worse, eh? What the bloody hell is worse than cleaning the _muggle_ way?"

"Slow, horrifying torture?"

"Same thing in my mind," James muttered as the pair rounded the corner. The library came into view as they walked on.

"What happened to Moony and Padfoot?" Peter asked nervously. "If they're really late they'll be in so much-"

"I'm sure those two don't care about extra detentions," James said. "Besides, I think Reamus might have mentioned swinging by Slytherin locker rooms before facing their cleaning doom with us."

"Oh Merlin, what did they-"

"Planting our little friends all over the place, and adding a little growth charm, just for added effect..." James smiled, as the pair passed the library, into an intersection of four separate hallways. Three were lit, commonly used corridors, and one was bathed in shadows, as students rarely frequented it. "I knew those tarantulas would finally come in handy."

"That's brilliant!" Peter raved. "They're-"

"Wait," James said, putting a hand up to silence his friend. He thought he heard something. Some sort of small noise, coming from the last corridor. It resembled almost a whimper, but darker. James and Peter stood silent in the intersection, waiting for the source of the sound to show itself. Moments later, James heard it again, followed by voices.

"That's enough, let's get out of here," the unmistakable sound of Tate's voice grumbled.

"Just one-"

"We've tortured the mudblood enough! Let's _go_!"

James threw the heavy bucket to the ground as he sprinted down the dark hallway. The crash of it vibrating threw the empty corridor alerted Avery and his companion, and they ran off in the opposite direction. James drew closer to the spot where they once stood, their shadows now visible until the blurred out of view. There was also the silhouette of another at the spot. Yet this body was left alone, sprawled out across the ground.

James reached it, yet he could not hear the sounds of Peter huffing behind him, nor that of Avery's panic. He fell to his knees, the Slytherins' victim unmissable beneath the blood, and pushed her red hair away from her face.

He felt his heart drop.

zszszszszszszszszszszszsz

His hands rose into her hair as the force of the kiss heightened. Mora could not think, she could not breathe, all she could do was kiss him. It was like her mind was a complete blank; totally oblivious to the very dangerous situation she was in. She had absolutely no control, and held little to no chance of breaking out of a rather strong Imperius curse.

Colton grew even more forceful. His hands slinked down to the collar of Mora's shirt, and then lower. He ripped open the top button of her shirt, and then the next.

And suddenly, the memory resurfaced.

_Eric could see the fear dancing inside Mora's hazel eyes. Twisted pleasure growing inside him, Eric's lips claimed Mora's in a rough, intense kiss. The second he pulled away, Eric began tearing away at Mora's dress, revealing her under garments. Throwing shards of the golden dress across the hallway, Mora screamed and dangerous, frantic scream. Someone had to hear her, they couldn't just leave her here with him. Anyone, just anyone! Pining her by the wrist on the ground, Eric kissed Mora once again, muffling away her screams. _

"_If you have plans on getting out of this alive, I suggest you shut the hell up!" _

In that one blast of consciousness, Mora felt herself being forced back into reality. Her past returned, the realization of the present and the fear all rushed back. Mora's mind kicked in, and instantly she shifted into danger mode.

Planting her hands onto his shoulders, Mora harshly threw Colton away. Catching him completely off guard, she knocked him to the ground, the surprising turn of events shocking to Colton. Her instincts taking full control, Mora knew she needed to get out of there, fast. As Mora turned to leave, Colton grabbed a hold of her ankle. She crashed to the ground, landing sourly on her left leg. She heard something crack as a rush of pain swelled inside her knee.

"Strong little bugger, aren't you, luv?" Colton sneered, his emotions taking hold of him. "How the _hell_ were you able to shake off an Imperius?"

Mora tried to kick him away from her, yet he dragged her towards him. Using her rage Mora used her free leg and smashed it into Colton's jaw. He lost grip on her, and Mora crawled forward, unable to rise to her feet due to her new knee injury. She was able to scuttle a few feet forward before she felt Colton grab a fistful of her hair. He was on his feet, standing behind her with a menacing gleam in his eye.

At that moment, Mora would not have been able to distinguish between Colton and his father. The same mad, honey eyes ripped through her. The same horror consumed her, and the same helplessness nearly overcame her. Yet the same, unyielding ferocity fueled through her, the same will to survive.

Mora could feel the warm stickiness of blood running from her lip, and the throbbing in her knee only escalated. Mora did not know what Colton would do. He may kill her, or worse. Mora knew at the moment, there was nothing she could do. She was wandless, injured, and terrified.

Pulling her head back, Colton forced Mora to look at him. Just as he were to either kiss her or smash her face into oblivion, Mora opened her mouth to scream. She had one chance to give one long, ear shattering yell, in hopes someone may hear her. A teacher, or a student, just _anyone_. It was her only hope left.

Colton, noticing Mora's attempted cry for help, pulled her up to her feet. He used his other hand to grab her face, clenching her mouth shut and muffling her scream. Instantly he flung Mora callously back to the ground. Mora landed, face front, onto the floor, and her head collided with the stone ground. The force of the crash completely caught Mora off guard. She lie there, face down on the floor, motionless, unable to do anything but think of the pain rushing up into her forehead.

But Mora was once again pulled back into reality as a hand gripped around her waist, and she was flipped over so her back was against the ground. Colton crouched above her, and continued ripping apart the buttons of her blouse. "STOP!" Mora shouted, clawing madly in the air. Colton's hands retracted and grasped for his cheek. Mora saw blood trickle from a long scratch tracing over his face from where she had scratched him.

He pulled his hand away from his face slowly, revealing his dark expression to Mora, fury taking complete control over him. It was as if a menacing calm crashed over him. He did not scream at Mora, nor did he strike her. But his honey eyes burned through her as he seethed, "I'll teach you how to treat me."

Unable to hold them back, Mora felt tears run down her cheeks. At that moment she knew exactly what was going to happen. Tom had been able to save her from it, as he rushed in to her rescue with not a second to spare. But now, Mora was truly alone. Alone, injured, and wandless. Every odd was against her.

"C'mon Mora. I bet I could show you a better time than Black ever could." Mora began screaming and pounding her fists against Colton's chest as he opened the button on his trousers.

"STOP!"

Infuriated by Mora's continuing struggle, he grabbed her left wrist, pinning it on the ground beside her head. Using his only free hand Colton wrapped his fingers around Mora's throat. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!" he bellowed as Mora gasped for air. She tried to pry away his hand from her neck, but his grip only tightened.

And the door to the Trophy Room blasted open.

zszszszszszszszszszszszsz

"C'mon Padfoot!" Reamus laughed as the two ran down the corridor, both out of breath and heaving with laughter at the same time. Reamus stopped in the middle of the hallway to catch his breath as Sirius reached him.

"Merlin, those Slytherins will love that at their practice tomorrow!" Sirius congratulated as he waved his arms in the air. He was still getting used to the lightness of his arm again now that the sling had been removed. "Twenty or so house-elf size like friends all over the place!"

"Makes me proud to be Marauder, times like these," Reamus gloated. "You think Prongs and Wormtail are alright?"

Sirius frowned slightly, remembering their impending detention. "I'm sure they saved us a few worthless trophies to scrub out, Moony, don't you worry."

Sirius looked off down the corridor. They were only a few paces away from the Trophy Room, but he had the nagging urge to run in the other direction. "No way, Black," Reamus said, noting Sirius' change of expression. "It's cleaning duty for us, you are not about to ditch."

"But, but-"

"No buts mister," Reamus sighed as the two started towards to Trophy Room.

"Fine, _mum_," Sirius snickered.

"STOP!"

Reamus froze. It hadn't been him or Sirius to scream out, but a distant voice, one that Sirius' knew well. The voice he heard every day, whether grumbling at breakfast about the early hour of the day, or laughing in the afternoon. But never had Reamus experienced a scream such as this. Reamus' stomach twisted into knots as he looked at Sirius, whose face now contorted with horror.

"SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!"

"Trophy Room!" Reamus yelled as the two screeched to a halt before the door. Sirius ripped his wand out of his robes, and in one, rigid movement the door exploded off the hinges, the derbies of it scattering across the ground. The dust from the explosion cleared as Sirius and Reamus rushed into the room. Reamus felt his heart rise into his throat once he spotted her. He could only see the top of her head, as it was facing the entrance. Mora was lying across the ground, fighting for survival as Colton Bayard strangled her. He was on top of her, a crazed look in his face as he choked her. Reamus could see a long gash over the right side of his face, still dripping with blood.

Before Reamus even had the chance to curse Colton, Sirius charged straight towards him. He knocked Colton off of Mora, tackling him to the ground. With another wave of his wand, Sirius sent Colton colliding with a shelf of awards. The trophies crashed from the shelf, burring Colton in a pile of gold and silver cups. Sirius stomped over to the spot and dragged Colton out of the mess, only to punch him in the eye and sent him flying back to the ground.

As Sirius continued to beat the life out of Colton, Reamus leapt to Mora's aid. "Mora, Mora! Are you alright?" Reamus hurried out as he knelt beside her. As he looked upon her, Reamus finally realized what sparked Sirius' true rage. Why Sirius insisted on pound the daylights out of Colton with sheer physicality instead of magic.

A wound similar to Colton's adorned Mora's lip, and two deep cuts threaded from Mora's collarbone down to her breast. Her uniform blouse had been torn open, the buttons not only undone but ripped off the shirt. A few spots that appeared to be bruises forming down by her hip also caught Reamus' eye. Mora could not respond to Reamus' question, but instead her hands rose over her eyes as she began to sob.

Reamus could finally see what Sirius had seen instantly. Colton hadn't been trying to kill Mora, he had been trying to rape her.

"What's the matter, Black?" Colton instigated, rather foolishly, as he swaggered to his feet. "Upset to see me get to her first?"

"YOU!" Reamus could hear Sirius shout, the sound of a punch echoing through the room.

"STUPID!"

Punch.

"BASTARD!"

Punch.

As the sound of the blows continued, all Reamus could do was stare at Mora. Cautiously, he touched her shoulder. Noticing the touch, Mora sprang up, her blue eyes meeting Reamus'. In that moment, Mora collapsed into his arms. Reamus held her tightly as she wept into his chest, the two still sitting on the floor.

One last blow sounded through the room, and Colton hit the ground, now unconscious and bloodied over the heap of trophies. Sirius walked softly towards Reamus and Mora. "Let's get you out of here," Reamus said as Mora's sobbing slowed considerably. Mora lifted her head to looked back at Reamus.

"N-no," Mora said suddenly, her voice cracking. "Not like this." She pulled the two sides of her shirt together, trying to hide her exposed skin. But without the buttons Mora's effort was useless. Instantly Sirius pulled his cloak off. He draped it over her shoulders gently. Mora hugged it close to her body. "Thank you," Mora choked out, not even looking at Sirius.

"Can you stand?" Reamus asked lightly.

Mora shook her head. "I don't think so, my knee..."

Reamus' eyes trailed down her leg. Her left kneecap looked double its normal size, and it was stained with even more blood. "Do you want to try standing?"

Mora shook her head up and down. "Alright," Reamus said. "One, two, three." On three Reamus began to stand, Mora's arm around his neck for support. The moment she reached her feet Mora cried out in pain. Without hesitation Sirius swooped Mora into his arms bridal-style.

"Better?" Sirius asked.

"Thanks."

"If you keep thanking me I'm gonna need to start keeping track," Sirius joked weakly, but Mora did not laugh.

"Let's go, now," Reamus said lightly, "Hospital wing."

Sirius nodded and lead the way out of the destroyed room. As they left Colton alone in the trophy room, Sirius felt something trigger inside him. Something he did not even know he had.


	34. What You Waited For

34. What You Waited For

"The headmaster is on his way," Madame Pomfrey announced. No one in the hospital wing responded, each lost in his own world to silently digest the words. Sensing the tension, Madame Pomfrey slipped away into her office, leaving the Gryffindors alone.

"I'll alert the media," Sirius eventually muffled out. He sat unmoved besides Mora's hospital bed, his fingers entwined with Mora's as she slept. "Too bad we've already been here for three and a half hours."

"Padfoot, shut up…..Are you sure that's a good idea?" He asked quietly, his head motioning towards Sirius' hand.

"Well why not?" Sirius snapped. He refused to let go of Mora. Neither Reamus nor any other power on this Earth could make him let go.

"Well think about what Mora will want, Sirius," Reamus reasoned seriously, "You honestly think she wants to do that at the moment?"

"Reamus, I'm holding her ruddy hand," Sirius said, his temper rising. "I don't see what the bleeding problem is."

"The bleeding problem is!" Reamus said angrily as he bound from his seat. "She's probably not going to be inclined to be touching anyone when she wakes up. So stop being so damn selfish!"

"Knock it off, both of you!" Peter demanded, emerging from the other side of the room. "After everything that's happened tonight, how ridiculous can you be? Shut the bloody hell up, now!"

Reamus clenched his jaw, returning to his seat, "Right then, sorry Peter." He said sincerely.

"How's James?" Sirius asked, his eyes turning across the room. A few beds down on the opposite side, curtains on all four sides blocked a bed; its occupant's condition was so severe Madame Pomfrey demanded the patient have complete privacy. The small magic-made cubicle tightly fit the bed, but James stayed behind them as well, by Lily's side.

"As expected," Peter said, shoveling his hands into his pockets. "Hasn't said a word, wouldn't even look at me when I checked in on him."

"We should be there with him," Reamus said. "He shouldn't be alone, and Lily -"

"I know, Moony," Sirius said, his eyes glued once again upon Mora's sleeping face. She looked so peaceful, in the last few minutes of her dreamless sleep. Madame Pomfrey would not give Mora the usual dose of the potion, knowing she would need to be questioned by Dumbledore while it was all still '_fresh in her mind_.'

"When will she wake up?" Sirius asked.

Reamus looked down at his wristwatch. "Any minute now," he said cautiously. Sirius did not move his gaze. Her tattered clothes were replaced with the traditional blue hospital night-gown, and the small cut over her lip had been healed. The marks on her chest were more severe, and now they were covered with heavy bandages. There was also another bandaged over her right temple. Her knee was propped up on a pillow, a brace holding it in position. Madame Pomfrey insisted her knee would be healed in a matter of hours.

"What about Lil?" Sirius asked, in the same emotionless tone.

Reamus looked back down to his watch. "Twenty minutes."

"And Mora has no idea Lily's even in here?" Peter asked uneasily.

"Curtains were up around her when the three of us got here."

"What about Emmy?" Peter questioned meekly. "Will anyone tell her?"

"McGonagall said she'd go in the morning," Reamus said. "Merlin, that's not gonna be pretty..."

"James looks like a ghost though," Peter explained. "He needs time, or air, or something. He just needs to get out of that cubicle for half a minute."

Reamus sighed as he rose from his seat, "Well, I guess I'll take a shot at it then." With this, Reamus strode across the room, stopping before the curtain. Taking on deep breath, he pulled it back slightly, and disappeared behind it.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked.

"Oh sure," Sirius said, his voice flat. "Two of my best mates were attacked; both assaulted and horribly injured. I'm high on Felix Felicies right now, Pete."

Peter winced, regretting the question. Sirius hadn't meant to snap at Peter, but what was he supposed to do? This waiting around was killing him. He wanted to see Lily, to be sure she was alive, that there really was something behind that mess of curtains. He wanted to see James, to let him know they were all in this together, they were all here for him. He wanted James to be there for him. Sirius did not know how long it would be until he snapped.

It didn't matter what he wanted. All Sirius knew was that he needed Mora. He needed her to open her eyes, to be okay. He needed to hold her hand, to be sure that she was still here. He needed her to be with him.

"You're-you're here!" Peter squealed. Sirius looked up to see James, emerged and torn away from his girlfriend's side.

"Yeah, I am," James grumbled. His glasses were the only thing that distinguished this person as James. His hazel eyes were drooped with bags, his hair stuck up in every direction, and his face was void of any emotion.

"You want something?" Peter asked.

"Water would be good," James said, and Peter soared out of the hospital wing, searching for James' request.

"Merlin..." James whispered as he looked down at Mora. He took another step closer towards the bed. Sirius gestured to Reamus' vacant seat, but James' ignored him. Absent mindedly James knelt beside the bed on the opposite side that Sirius was, by Mora's head. "What did I do?"

Sirius sat awkwardly, not sure of how to react. "What did I do?" James repeated.

"James, you didn't do anything," Sirius said.

"That's exactly it," James said, staring down at Mora's sleeping face. Gently he fixed her chestnut hair upon the pillow. "That's it, why didn't I?"

It was as if James was no longer speaking to Sirius. "Why didn't I protect her?" he went on. "I promised him I'd protect her, and now she's-"

"James," Sirius said, leaning towards his best mate. "None of this is your fault. Not you, or Reamus, or Peter, or me, we couldn't stop this."

"But it's my job," James went on, leaving Sirius very confused. Just like he had many times before this night, tears began to get stuck behind James' glasses. "I promised..."

"James, what are you talking about?" Sirius asked. But it was as if James hadn't even heard the question.

"I promised, I promised..." He carried on. "To protect her, her life, her secret..."

Sirius felt a twinge in his index finger. And then another jerk in his palm of his right hand. Mora's hand inside his own began to move, her finger's no longer limp. "Mora?" Sirius said.

In that moment there were a million different things Sirius wanted to do. He wanted to jump up and thank the lord that she had opened her eyes. He wanted to kiss her, right here in the hospital wing, in front of James and whoever else may walk in. He wanted to break down and cry. He wanted to tell Mora everything, tell her that he loved her. But in that moment, all he could do was hold onto her hand, and keep it all in.

Slowly, her eyelids opened, blinking in the harsh light of the hospital wing. She gazed around nervously, not recognizing where she was. "It's alright, you're safe," Sirius reassured as her tired blue eyes turned to him.

"How do you feel?" James asked as Mora looked to him.

"Not great," she answered honestly. "You probably look worse than I do," Mora said, noting James' disheveled appearance.

"Makes sense," James said lightly, smiling back at Mora. "Been here longer than you have."

"Why?" Mora asked innocently.

"Lil-"

_You bloody idiot!_ Sirius thought. Sirius instantly wanted to kick James. Or throw some blunt object at him. Or both. The last thing Mora need at the moment was anymore stress. And learning of Lily's attack so soon was a large load to put on Mora at the moment.

"Lily?" she said suddenly, worry flooding her voice. "What happened? Is she okay? Did he -"

"She's okay," Sirius said. "She -"

"Where is she?" Mora demanded, but her eyes found the curtained-off bed first. "Oh Merlin..."

"Avery," James explained, against his better judgment, "And others, maybe two or three of them...they jumped her after she left the library."

"When can I see her?" Mora asked quickly.

"She's still sleeping," Sirius said.

"But -"

"It is good to see you are awake, Mora," the calm, powering voice of the headmaster said. Sirius turned his head to see Dumbledore striding into the hospital wing. "How do you feel?"

"So-so," Mora answered, her tone flat.

"Mister Potter, Mister Black," Dumbledore said. "I'm sorry, but I must ask that you both step out of the room for a few minutes."

"Of course," James said softly. After sharing one last reassuring look with Mora, he rose from his spot and headed towards the door. But he stopped when he realized he was walking alone.

"Mister Black," Dumbledore repeated, his voice tender.

Mora looked to Sirius, who still clung to her hand in desperation. Sirius shook his head, refusing to leave Mora for even a moment. "Go," Mora said softly. Gulping, Sirius gently set Mora's hand down on the bed, letting her fingers slip away from him.

zszszszszszszszszszszszsz

"First," Dumbledore said as he sat in the chair Sirius' had just vacated. With a few ornate moves of his wand, curtains rose around them, but they surrounded three times to amount of space that the ones around Lily did. "I would like to personally apologize for what happened."

"Professor…"

"I am deeply sorry something this horrible could happen in this castle," Dumbledore went on. "I am sorry I failed to protect you, to keep you safe. The welfare of all the students of Hogwarts is my own responsibility, and I failed you Mora. I failed and you suffered these deadly consequences. Most importantly, I am sorry about transfiguration."

"Pardon?" Mora echoed as she sat up against the headboard of the hospital bed.

"Transfiguration class. I was not aware you sat next to him. If I had known you had any contact with Colton Bayard -"

_I'll teach you how to treat me_...

Mora felt it all rush back. Of course she remembered what happened, but the realization of it had not yet fully set in. It was like for a brief moment or two, she had been free of the horror. And now it held her captive once again. The image of Colton's malevolent face flashed into her mind. Without even realizing it, Mora buried her face into her hands.

"I know there is far too much that I have closed my eyes to for you to forgive."

"But there is nothing to forgive, Professor," Mora said instantly, drawing her hands away from her face. "There was nothing you could do to stop this."

"I know I could not have kept this young man from attacking an innocent person," Dumbledore restated. "But I know I could have kept it from being you. You have been through so much, with the tempari and -"

"And what?" Mora snapped, her voice wavering as she held back another fresh set of sobs. "My family? Tom? Eric? How bloody disgusting is that," Mora spat. "Just like his father, a manipulative, obsessing, ra-" Mora stopped herself.

No, she would not say the word.

"But Mora, I know this will be difficult for you," Dumbledore soothed. "But I do need to ask you a few questions about what happened."

"Ask away," Mora muttered as she awkwardly picked at the bandage on her forehead.

"Is it possible for you to recount the events to me?"

Mora clenched her eyes shut. She took one, slow breath in threw her nose. "I left the library alone, Lily was still there," Mora began slowly. "I headed towards Gryffindor Tower, but I saw-I thought I saw, Benjy's cat. Benjy Fenwick that is."

"Thought you saw?" He asked, not wanting to push Mora, but still needing the answers.

"Well, yeah," Mora said. "I followed it, I knew if Benjy lost his cat he'd be a wreck. It led me to the Trophy Room. But it wasn't Bentley, his cat. Bay-_he_, had transfigured an owl to look like it. Once I was there, he disarmed me. He told me he wanted to talk. Next thing I knew, he was...kissing me."

"What did you do?" Dumbledore asked placidly.

"I tried to get away. But before I could get to the door, he...cursed me," Mora recounted. "The Imperius Curse."

How had Mora been so dense? To turn her back on the psycho-path with the wand? Why didn't she think he may try something so desperate, so dangerous as to cast an unforgivable on her?

"Mora, what happened next?"

Mora dropped her hand from her head. "I started kissing him, I couldn't stop him, I-I couldn't do anything," she admitted. "Do I have to tell you..._every_ detail?"

"No, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, Mora," Dumbledore reassured. "But it would help."

She nodded. "Alright," she said. "He started unbuttoning my shirt, and then, I don't know how, but I broke it. I sort off shook off the curse."

"You were able to free yourself of its hold?"

"Yes," Mora answered. "Once the curse was off, I pushed him down. I ran for the door, but he pulled me down too. We struggled more, until I was on the ground and he was on top of me."

Mora could not contain her tears anymore, and her voice became suddenly wheezy. "He ripped open my shirt..." Mora sniffled loudly, self consciously grabbing the collar of her nightgown in her fingers and holding tightly against her skin. "I told him to stop, but-he-," Mora tried to stop herself. "He just laughed at me, he told he, he would show me a _good time._"

Mora squeezed her eyes shut, causing a few loose tears to charge unexpectedly. "Then he started un-doing his pants, and I just started yelling and screaming. I think I scratched up his face, but the next thing I knew he was choking me."

_SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!_

"And then Reamus and Sirius came in. If they hadn't gotten there, I don't know-I might have been dead, or..."

"Mora," Dumbledore said, leaning closer to her. He readjusted his glassed on his nose. "You are an extraordinarily strong witch. Do not think for a moment this makes you weak."

"How can I not, Professor?" Mora cried out. "I mean, I'm supposed to be able to be against Voldemort if I want to live, and I can't even fight off some seventeen year old punk. I can't stop some kid from ra-"

_Don't say it!_

"You fought off the Imperius Curse, Mora," Dumbledore said. "An Unforgivable Curse. Not one of your classmates have never faced one yet, and I guarantee if it were anyone else, they would not be able to break its hold. Never doubt you're power, Mora."

"Is that all?" Mora asked, refusing to look at Dumbledore. All she wanted was for this chat to be over. She just wanted to be alone. No more questions, or little pep-talks, or the constant badgering of _Are you okay, are you okay_.

"Yes, if you want to stop for now," Dumbledore said, "Of course we can stop." Dumbledore rose from his seat. "Would you like me to leave these?" He asked, motioning to the curtains. Mora nodded. "Very well," Dumbledore said. "Sleep well, Mora. Remember, I am always here, whenever you need me. Just call, and I'll pop up."

zszszszszszszszszszszszsz

"Knock knock," Reamus called, waving his hand threw the curtain's surrounding Mora's bed. "May I?"

"Sure," Mora said softly, sitting up in her bed. She had spent the last few hours pretending to sleep, although she suspected everyone left in the hospital wing knew she was faking. Lily had awoken, but Madame Pomfrey refused to let anyone see her except James. Now Madame Pomfrey was doing a few more tests on the girl.

Reamus slipped in between the curtains. "Hey there," he smiled weakly, sitting in the one, lone chair.

"Did the sun rise yet?" Mora asked.

"Few minutes ago," Reamus answered. "Which means Emmeline could be here at any time, so brace yourself," he warned jokingly.

"Bracing," Mora answered. "For some morbid post-attack humor, I've never been happier than Emmeline hates studying. Otherwise she would have been in the library last night, which means we'd have _three _very pissed off girls in hospital beds."

"Well, that was a little morbid," Reamus smiled. "Nice to see a touch of your old self is back."

"Took some time, but Mora the Beast is home again," Mora said, making Reamus' smile wider.

"So yeah, good for Emmy the slacker. But you've also got to be thankful for my stubbornness."

"Huh?"

Reamus looked as if he wanted to smack himself across the face. "Alright, time to be serious then, not looking forward to it," Reamus sighed, upset that he just ruined Mora's moment of what appeared to be happiness.

"The Slytherins must have targeted the crushes, went after the only thing they knew would really hurt us. James and Lily are going to wind up married with seven kids and a bunch of cats and such, so that counts as a crush" Reamus listed, "And for some reason Colton is convinced Sirius fancies you..."

_C'mon Mora. I bet I could show you a better time than Black ever could_...

"Mora, are you alright?" Reamus said, noting your sudden deathly expression.

"No, well - yes I'm okay - but, I remembered something. Something he said, about Sirius."

"What was it?" Reamus asked.

"You really want to know?" Mora asked, the color flushed out of her face. Reamus nodded. "Alright, I warned you. _I could show you a better time than Black ever could_." The two fell silent.

"How long has he been hallucinating?"

"What?" Reamus asked.

"Sirius fancying on me. How long has Bayard believed that load of bullock?" Mora asked.

"Since the Gryffindor-pride hair style prank I suppose," Reamus said. "Mora, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up -"

"It's fine, Reamus," Mora said. "Honestly, it'll take some time before I am really myself again, no thank to the Bayards."

"_The_ Bayards?"

"My turn to explain then," Mora said. "Mind getting James in here though?"

It only took a few moments for Reamus to return in Mora's cubicle with James.

"Before my first tempari-"

"Wha-what?" James asked nervously. Terror rose inside James' eyes.

"No, James, he knows," Mora said. "I'm sorry, I should have told you."

"Merlin, who doesn't know at this point?" James muttered, relieved yet slightly agitated.

"Besides you two and Lily, I'd say... the rest of the world." Mora took another breath in. "Back to the point, when I knew Tom Riddle, another one of my classmates was Bayard's father, Eric."

"Let me guess, apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Reamus said.

"Sure doesn't," Mora said uneasily. "He attacked me-tried to rape me."

Mora exhaled. She said it. It had taken her nine hours, but she finally said the word. So, she still hadn't said Colton's first name aloud yet, she said rape.

"He looks so much like Eric," Mora went on, "The way he did back then, it's frightening. And last night, I really, I-I...for a second there I thought it was Eric all over again."

"I thought you should know," Mora said finally. "About an hour ago I talked to Dumbledore again, and we decided I'm not going to press charges against Colton."

"What?" Reamus said in disbelief. "Mora, he's dangerous! He'll just do it again! To you, or someone else -"

"That's not the point," James interjected. "The Bayards are high up in the ministry. If Colton was accused of anything, it would be massive media attention. Mora can't afford even a dot of recognition on that sort of scale."

"They're all still out there," Mora went on, "All of them from back then, including Eric. Eric would obviously see me if I were sending his golden child to Azkaban. His son, trying to rape a _Mora_, identical, besides the hair, to the Mora he knew? That in its self is too risky."

"And then there's Voldemort," James explained. "He reads the papers. He sees a picture in the Daily Prophet, sees Mora. We have no idea if he knows what a Temparious is, but he does know about ancient magicks. The risk is indescribable."

"So that's it," Reamus said, "Colton gets away with it. Nothing happens to him, ever?"

"Reamus," James said, "There's nothing we can do."

"How can you be so calm about this?" Reamus went on to Mora, losing his entire ability to stay under control. "He tried to rape you! He could have killed you!"

"I REALIZE THAT!"

Reamus knew instantly that he had gone too far. Mora had jumped out of the bed, both bare feet on the tiled hospital ground. "Mora, your knee-"

"Is fine," she gritted through her teeth. She turned her attention back to Reamus. "You think I don't understand the situation, Reamus? That I don't remember what scum Colton Bayard is? He nearly raped me, he could have killed me! I have to live with this my entire life, knowing he's out there. It's my choice, so I suggest you BACK THE BLOODY HEL OFF!"

"OUT!" A hand clamped on Reamus' shoulder, dragging him out of the curtains as Mora collapsed onto the floor.

"ARE YOU MENTAL?" Sirius screamed into Reamus' face. "I don't even know what you're yelling about, but SHUT IT!"

Reamus shoved himself out of Sirius' grasp. "Alright, you're right," Reamus said. "How much did you hear?" 

"Just the screaming part of it," Sirius relayed.

"So unlike _the_ Reamus Lupin to lose it," the melodic sound of Lily's voice pointed out. Snapping his head, Reamus spotted her. She sat in a wheelchair, wrapped cozily in her bathrobe with a great cheery smile on her face.

For a moment Reamus was sure Lily had finally lost it. Her cheery disposition made no sense as he looked upon her. Bruises and scratches draped over her milky skin, weaving through her freckles. On the left, she had a giant black eye. On the right, her lip was swollen, with a bruise trailing down from it to her chin. Purple, black, and blue marks trailed up and down the skin Reamus could see of her arms and legs. Lily's left wrist was in a small brace; the rest of her broken bones had already been healed, however this injury proved to be particularly stubborn. She sat perched in a wheelchair, Peter behind ready to push wherever she wanted to go, and beaming like he was the happiest man on earth just because he was near her.

"LILY!" Reamus lunged at her, wrapping his arms around her.

"Umm…ouch?"

Reamus jumped away. "Sorry! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean too!"

"Relax, I'm just a little sore," Lily smiled. "Anyways, we all know you're trying to help, but you," she now turned her focus to Sirius, "You have got to calm down! He lost it, which was bad, and you got him out of there, which was good. But stop yelling! Lily doesn't like loud noises!"

"Yes Lily," Sirius obliged.

"Good," she smirked. "Anyways, I've got some more tests, make sure my spleen and all my organs and such are working, and then I think I'm free."

"And with Wormtail playing nurse I'm sure you'll have a grand old time," Sirius joked as the four of them shared laughter. For that brief moment, it seemed as though everything was back to normal. Like the events of the night before never happened, that Lily hadn't been horribly injured, and the worst part of their lives was simply the pre-NEWTS.


	35. Stories of Seclusion

35. Stories of Seclusion

It happened whenever she closed her eyes.

When she tried to sleep at night, or if she happened to doze off because her sudden insomnia, or when her mind seemed to wander. She would be there it over and over again. She could hear him and see him, she could feel the fear explode within her. Whenever Mora closed her eyes, all she could see was Colton.

Mora had been out of the hospital wing for about a week, and for the entire length of time, she succeeded in being invisible. Dumbledore insisted she not jump back into classes right away. She needed to, according to him _Take her time_ and _Ease back in_. And, as he usually was, Dumbledore was right. Of course, Mora avoided "easing in" at all coasts. The only time she would emerge from the dormitory during the day was while everyone else was in class. She would take her meals down in the kitchens, after all, the house elves always loved when students visited. And at night, Mora would stay in bed and pretend to sleep, simply to avoid contact with anyone and, more importantly, everyone.

But now it was the weekend, meaning everyone was free from their classes. Mora had nowhere to hide. And now, she could not escape her friends. All they wanted to know all the time was if she was okay, or if she was eating or sleeping. They wanted to know how she felt or why she wasn't talking to anyone. But they didn't want to push her, so they asked in that I-care-ever-so-much type way.

It took her a few hours, but Mora finally retreated to a place no one would ever find her. The owlery certainly was not the most luxurious of hiding places, but Mora did not mind. The owls hooted and shouted, and the humidity mixed with the heavy sent of owl droppings and mulch was suffocating. Bur here, she was safe away from the humans. She would sit upon the windowsill and stare out onto the grounds of Hogwarts, hoping she could just forget.

But then she would remember.

Mora knew she would need to start classes on Monday. It didn't matter that Dumbledore said she could take all the time she needed, or that the whispers and gossip whizzing around about her was all sympathetic and strangely supportive, Mora knew if she did not attend class Monday, she would never go back.

The seating arrangement had been changed in every single class she had. She only shared three classes with Colton, but now they would be found at complete opposite ends of the classroom.

But that did not really change anything, did it?

He was still there. She could never press charges, she could never really speak out, she could never have justice. The worst thing that would ever happen to Colton Bayard was a few rumors. Emmeline kept the Marauders from attacking him every moment of the day, which made Mora was happy. Any attention to the situation at all could mean blowing Mora's cover. Although Peter and Sirius, as well as Emmeline, had no idea about the temapri or Eric, they still abided by Mora's wishes.

Colton had not said a word to any of the Gryffindors the entire week. Their war had gone silent for six days, consisting only of flesh-melting glares and silent death threats. Yet Mora knew this could not last forever. Words would be exchanged, and the bloodbath would begin, yet again.

While three Hogwarts houses despised Colton, Slytherin seemed to exalt him. It was sickening, disturbing even, that these death eater wannabes were worshipping Colton like he himself were the Dark Lord. If only they knew, anyone bearing the name _Bayard_ would never be accepted into Tom's army.

But when Mora tried to push all these thoughts out of her mind, she would be there all over again.

"I thought I'd find you up here," Lily called as she climbed the stairs of the owlery. Mora jumped off the window seat.

"You're, you're out of the infirmary!" Mora exclaimed, moving to help Lily. "Are you nuts, going up all those stairs?"

"It's good exercise, but I'm fine," Lily insisted. Her injuries were healing quickly, attributed completely to the wonders of wizarding medicine. Her black eye was the only thing signifying to the attack, which was faded, as well as her wrist brace.

"But I'm not here to discuss me, now am I?"

"Oh," Mora muttered, slumping back down onto her windowsill. "Let me answer you're question for you right now then: No, I'm not fine, but I'll lie and say I am anyways."

"We haven't really been able to talk about what happened that night," Lily said, sitting beside Mora.

"It's not exactly a story I like to share, you know?"

"I'm not talking about your end of it," Lily corrected "You deserve to know what happened to me."

"Lil, I don't think that's a good idea -"

"Well, I do. So hush," Lily stated. "Basically, I left the library, got pulled into a dark corner, was disarmed, and beaten and crucioed until they knocked me out. That's basically it."

Mora looked to Lily quickly, confusion rising inside her eyes. "You mean, they didn't try to, they-they weren't going to -"

But Lily understood the question without Mora needing to finish it. "No, all they wanted to do was beat me to a pulp and get out of there." Lily sighed. "Avery is the only person I can remember who was definitely there. Not that it matters anymore. He skipped town that night."

"Tate Avery is gone?"

"Disappeared into thin air."

"Wish Bayard would do that…."

"I know you're sick of people telling you it wasn't your fault," Lily went on, "But, Mora, you have to believe it."

"If it wasn't, this wouldn't have happened…._twice_." Mora ran her fingers shakily through her hair, which hung messily down her back. "With Bayards both times."

"He's sick, Mora."

"Which?"

"Both," Lily answered as soon as Mora's question left her lips.

"It's absurd though," Mora muttered out. "I can fight off an Imperious but I can't fight off a Bayard. Phfft."

"He put an unforgivable on you?" Lily asked in shock.

Mora looked back to Lily. She had forgotten that she never told anyone but Dumbledore what happened that night. "His plan, I guess, wasn't to be caught committing a serious crime and then be beaten by Sirius, Lily," Mora started. "The boys' detention was in the Trophy Room. They were are supposed to walk in on me and Bayard…."

Mora did not need to fill in the blank as Lily understood instantly.

"Merlin, how twisted is that?" Mora raved on. "Colton had some sick idea that Sirius has a crush on me, so he assumes if Sirius walks in on him and I doing, _something_, that's a decent prank?"

"This wasn't a prank, Mora," Lily said seriously. "It's pure vengeance."

"How do you do that?" Mora snapped. "How are you so calm about this all? You act as though this was years ago, not six days before!"

"What happened to me was awful, yes, but nothing like what happened to you," Lily justified calmly. "None of this is your fault, Mora. Colton is twisted, one day he'll get what he deserves."

"How do you know?" Mora asked.

"I just do," Lily said, rubbing Mora's back tenderly.

The sat together in a few moments of silence, until Mora finally blurted out, "He talked as if it was all some big game." Mora took a sharp breath in. "It was repulsive. He called me _luv_. He said he was going to teach me a lesson, that he'd show me a good time. Merlin it was all so..."

Lily pulled Mora closer to her, and Mora rested her head on her friend's shoulder and simply let the tears roll down her cheeks. It would be Mora's last visit to the owlery.

zszszszszszszszszszszszsz

Mora returned to classes the following Monday. Before she entered the Transfiguration classroom, Sirius stood behind her, giving her hand a supportive squeeze. "McGonagall switched us around," He explained as the two stood on the threshold of the room. "You're next to me now, last desk on the far right the back. I'm with you the entire time."

Mora squeezed Sirius' hand back. "What would I do without you?"

"Be horribly un-entertained?" Even though Sirius joked, he was completely elated that Mora was thankful for him. He looked into her bright blue eyes, full of determination and the occasional short flicker of anxiety. "Whenever you're ready," he reassured.

Mora shut her eyes, and instead of seeing the images that tortured her the past week, she saw nothing. She took on last breath, wound her fingers with Sirius as tight as possible, a shoved her foot through the doorway.


	36. Careers, Crimes, and Company

36. Careers, Crimes, and Company

"Please, Miss Ashford, take a seat," McGonagall greeted as Mora stepped into the Professor's office.

Mora nodded as she sat uneasily in the seat in front of the desk. A light spring breeze swept through the room, reminding Mora of the two short months she had left at Hogwarts. It seemed it was only yesterday she literally landed in the school, a complete stranger to the castle and all the insanity that lie inside it. Mora had very scarce memories of what her homes were like, but she knew Hogwarts had to be one of them.

In two short months, Mora would be thrown from the safety of her dear Hogwarts, out into the world awaiting her and the rest of her peers. She did not have the slightest idea what she would do once she was on her own. Mora had no family to fall back on and not even a single knut to her name. Mora knew her life was bound to end the moment she stepped outside of Hogwarts.

_But I guess that's what today is for_...Mora thought. _Career counseling, looking off into the great future and what not_.

Mora never imagined what career she wanted to pursue when she graduated. She always seemed to be preoccupied with other thoughts, like "So when is my ex-boyfriend going to find out I'm alive so he can blow my brains out?" or "When will I go all tempari-voodoo and end up in the twilight zone?" Mora never pictured herself with a normal job, with working hours and paychecks, probably because she did not expect to survive in hiding this long.

But here she was, alive, healthy, and her identity remained a secret. And now she had to face the next endeavor the world had to offer her: growing up.

"I usually speak to students for the first time in fifth year before their OWLS exams," McGonagall began, "Since we never had that opportunity, this is our first time to talk about what you plan to do once you leave Hogwarts."

_Thanks for reminding me that I'm officially screwed..._ Mora groaned inwardly.

"Now, do you have any ideas of what career field you wish to pursue?" the professor asked.

"Well, er..." Mora stammered, "I haven't really decided on one, so...I love potions, something in that area -"

"Well then," McGonagall said as she flipped open a file before her with the "Ashford, M." scribbled over it, "You certainly have a true talent for the subject..."

_So what? I should be some sort of potions-woman-thingie?_

McGonagall shuffled through a few more sheets in the folder. "Yes, Professor Slughorn is very fond of you. Have you ever considered becoming a healer?"

"No, not really," Mora confessed.

"You meet all the requirements, Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, all you need is to receive an E or higher on your NEWTs, which should not be a problem for a student of your capabilities." McGonagall handed Mora a thick pamphlet as she said, "There are many different areas of healing. You would start at an internship, I highly suggest at St. Mungo's, the have the best training program. Take a look at this, and if you feel healing is not your calling, come back."

"Thank you, Professor," Mora said as she hurried out of the office. _Great, so now I have a calling? All I need now is to go on some epic quest for the good of mankind and I can die happy._ Mora smiled as she walked down the corridor.

zszszszszszszszszszszszsz

"So this is where you lot have been..." Mora sighed as she strolled the grounds, spotting Lily, Sirius, and Reamus beneath the large willow tree. She threw her bookbag from her shoulder and plopped down beside Reamus, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. "Where are the others?"

"Emmeline's taking her test for charms," Lily said. "I told her she shouldn't have waited till the last minute to start studying..."

"Prongs and Wormtail are serving out their sentences," Sirius said, stretched out on his stomach across the grass.

"What they do this time?" Mora said, "That's the third time James as been locked up this week..."

"Was this for doubling the size of Bertram's egg head?" Lily asked, "Or when all four of you transfigured Slytherins dinner into plastic?"

"No, I thought it was slime avalanche in the dungeons," Reamus said, resting against the trunk of the tree.

"And the winner is," Sirius announced as he propped his head up with his arms, "Slime a la Slytherin."

"Oh yeah, I forgot you're the one who got busted for the plastic cuisine," Mora recalled.

"And I only got two detentions for that," Sirius bragged, "Those two have to scrape up every bit of goop out of that corridor, and it was pretty scummy before the prank..."

"Why do you four always do that to each other?" Lily asked as she plucked a weed out from the ground, dangling from her palm. "Let one or two take the fall for what you all did."

"Because, Miss Evans," Sirius said, leaning up to face her, "If all four of us served for our crimes each time, who would be out here, causing more mayhem?"

"Uggg," Lily moaned, tossing the weed at Sirius' head.

"How was your quality time with McGonagall?" Reamus asked Mora.

"Just peachy," Mora smiled, "She actually gave me some good ideas."

"And our dear Mora will be the next star..." Sirius began, eyeing the pamphlet in Mora's grasp. "Healer?"

"Yup," Mora said, "It actually makes sense, I can't believe I never thought of it before."

Lily squealed. Reaching over Reamus, she grabbed her bookbag, digging out a pamphlet identical to Mora's. "I got one two! Still, I haven't decided between healing, or code breaking, or being an unspeakable, but we could be work buddies!"

"Run now, Mora," Reamus joked, "Before she buys matching scrubs."

"And what do you plan on doing after Hogwarts, Reamus?" Lily asked, placing her pamphlet back into her bag.

"Well, nothing's certain yet," Reamus started, grinning with enthusiasm, "But I applied for a spot with the ACE, and they must like something about me, since they asked me for an interview for next week."

"Reamus that's amazing!" Lily said excitedly.

"Not to rain on your parade, Moony...what's a _ace_?" Sirius asked.

"Advocates for Creature Equality," Lily explained, "The most influential organization working for magical creature rights."

"That's perfect for you!" Mora said, "Congratulations, Reamus."

"I don't know if I've got the job yet, guys," Reamus said, "But if I do, there's an entire employee confidentiality, which means I have to tell my boss my _furry little problem,_ but they are required to keep it confidential if I ask them too."

Mora beamed as she watched Reamus glow from his near accomplishment. She knew Reamus was not ready to be publicly outted as a werewolf. Life would become exceedingly difficult for Reamus being branded as outcast. He had no reason to be ashamed; Reamus had no control over what happened to him. But in the world they now lived in, where people were murdered everyday for being _different_ or _impure_, Reamus needed to protect himself. But working at ACE could help Reamus reach out to others who lived with the same fear he did. It gave Reamus the chance to make a difference for others who lived with his pain, his condition, his life. Not only werewolves, but so many other people and creatures alike who lived in the same oppression.

Reamus was truly a noble person. Mora knew the world would never be perfect. There would always be prejudice, there would always be closed minded, ignorant people whose self proclaimed purpose is to "put others in their place." Mora knew Reamus understood that too. But that could not stop Reamus from wanting to help make the world a little brighter for others who were thrown into the shadows.

_Just like me..._Mora thought.

Mora realized she wanted to be a healer for the same reason Reamus needed to be at ACE. Mora lived with one of the most unknown and incurable conditions known to wizards. Hardly anyone remembered what a Temparious was, and no modern medicine could ever help Mora live with it. All she could do was sit and wait to be pulled into a new dimension, stolen away from the new life she fought so hard to hold on to. Mora knew there was most likely no chance in the world she would ever meet another Temparious, but millions of people lived with medical problems.

Millions of people died from magical illnesses, some because they had no medicine or no cure available. Mora knew what it was like to live with that helplessness. She had been in the hospital wing a few too many times for comfort. Mora remembered the list of pleasant little _side effects_ for her condition, like internal bleeding, suffocation of the lungs, and heart failure, all of which could kill Mora very easily. And there was also her not-remembering-her-entire-childhood-and-family situation. Mora knew some many people suffered from symptoms even worse than her own, and it grieved her to think so many died without hope.

Mora knew she had to do something than just sit and hide for the rest of her life, or whatever time she had left before she had another tempari. If she could help one person live a little longer or happier, it was all that mattered.

zszszszszszszszszszszszsz

Mora shoveled the letter back into her pocket, still puzzled over its purpose. _Your presence is requested at a meeting on the fifth of May in the Headmaster's office at precisely ten o'clock in the evening_.

Her presence was requested? It must have been Dumbledore who sent the letter, why else would this meeting be in his office? But why would Mora be called to speak with Dumbledore late one Tuesday evening? It seemed completely random, yet the vagueness of the letter irritated Mora. She had no idea why her presence was _requested_, after all, she couldn't be in any sort of trouble, right?

The letters had arrived earlier that morning. Mora's had been beside her bed on her nightstand when she awoke. Lily and Emmeline also received letters, each addressed to them personally. Yet the other three Gryffindors in their room did not, which meant this meeting was exclusive.

At breakfast, Mora found out all four Marauders also received letters. "Maybe their dumping all seven of us at once," Sirius had said, "And right before graduation too. Figured they'd do it eventually."

Of course, Lily was distraught over it all day, convinced they were all about to be expelled. But Mora did not honestly believe they received these letters just so they could be reprimanded. After all, the Marauders hadn't pulled a stunt worthy of expulsion since March. There was too much secrecy around this meeting, and the letter indicated this meeting was not to be discussed with anyone not attending. Why would there be so much security around this meeting?

And even more questions consumed Mora's mind throughout the morning. Was anyone else invited to this meeting? Were they Gryffindors? Were they seventh years? Would it just be Dumbledore there, or would other staff members be present? Mora puzzled over her ideas throughout her classes, simply drooling over her blank charms notes as she mindlessly sat through the lecture.

Mora sighed. She didn't want to obsess over this letter like Lily was, but she didn't want to simply blow it off like James was. _Waiting for either our execution or something more,_ Mora thought to herself,_ I guess I just have to wait and see._


	37. The Next Generation

37. The Next Generation

"Do they still hang kids from the toes in the dungeons here?" Lily asked nervously as the group drew closer and closer upon Dumbledore's office that Tuesday evening. "Because I think we ought to volunteer to do that before we accept expulsion..."

"No one's getting kicked out, Lil," James reassured, squeezing Lily's hand.

"Besides," Sirius said, "That sounds like a lenient punishment for the stuff we've pulled in these halls."

Peter whimpered. "My mum's gonna kill me when she hears..."

"No one's getting kiced out!" Mora insisted.

"Let's find out then," Sirius said as the seven stopped before the entrance. "Shall we?"

"Here goes nothing," James said, now facing the statue guarding the office's door. "Toffee éclairs."

The entrance revealed itself, and James lead the way up the staircase and into the office. "Dum, dum, dum..." Sirius sang softly, causing Emmeline to burst out in nervous giggles.

The group descended into the overcrowded office. Dumbledore stood in the center, along with McGonagall, and three other wizards Mora had never seen before. Beside them stood Hagrid, his grin widening even further once he spotted Mora. Four more students waited in the office, two Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff, and even one Slytherin.

"Welcome," Dumbledore greeted.

"Well, if they're kicking us out," Sirius whispered, rather loudly, into Mora's ear, "They're sure making a show of it."

"No, Mister Black," Dumbledore smiled, "No one is getting kicked out, or anything of the sort."

Mora heard Lily sigh deeply. "No, we are here to celebrate your graduation. Every student here tonight has been hand-picked by myself, and the witches and wizards you see here tonight. Here we have Professor McGonagall of transfiguration, and our gamekeeper Rubeus Hagrid."

Hagrid raised his enormous hand and waved enthusiastically to the group, causing Mora to smile. "And some new faces as well. This is Mister Alaster Moody, star auror for the ministry."

Moody tilted his head slightly in his own gruff sort of hello. The man certainly had a intimidating air about him, his fake eye piercing through each student. His grizzly appearance separated Alaster Moody from the other wizards he stood with.

"This," Dumbledore continued, gesturing to the next wizard, "Is Frank Longbottom, also and auror for the ministry, he graduated from Gryffindor only two years ago."

"Hello all," Frank said. The man was very tall, towering above Moody significantly. His brown hair was cut extremely short and his robes hardly hit his knees.

"Lastly," Dumbledore said, "We have Dorcas Meadows. Miss Meadows is a professional dueler, the European Champion two years in a row."

Dorcas smiled at the students, holding her arms behind her back professionally. Her raven hair was pulled tightly into a bun behind her head, making Dorcas look more mature. Mora could tell this woman looked tough, the kind of tough that could make grown men cry and beg for mercy if they got on her bad side.

"You all have something in common with these men and women," the headmaster said, "You are all extraordinary."

_Well, that was straight forward_, Mora thought. _That's it? He rounded us up to tell us "Good job, now scram" and such?_

"The six of us are all members of a organization," Dumbledore explained, pacing back and forth as he spoke, "Along with many other talented people, wizards, witches, and squibs alike. We devout our talents, our passions, and our lives to doing what is right. The world we live in today is plagued with violence and oppression, caused by Lord Voldemort and the terror insighted by his followers."

Mora felt her heart skip several beats. This was the usual reaction whenever she heard mention of _his_ name. Mora hated who she froze up at the thought of Tom Riddle, past or present. Memories from so many years ago and nightmares of what the future held occupied her thoughts. The fear had such a strong hold on Mora. It forced her to live in this lie, to hide her true identity just to survive until the next day. But the one thing that was even strong than the fear, was Mora's anger.

"We are called the Order of the Phoenix. Together we fight Voldemort and the Death Eaters, risking our lives everyday to save the lives of others. Our lives will always be filled with danger, however when we are gone, some one must take our places in the battle. That is why you are here tonight."

Dumbledore stopped pacing, standing now in the center of the room. No one dared to utter a word, knowing Dumbledore would continue to speak. "You are all the brightest and bravest of this graduating class. Your skills are exceptional, you have proved yourselves countless times throughout your years here at Hogwarts through your accomplishments, academically and especially outside the classroom."

_Right, all those extra circular pranks are really Order material_, Mora snickered to herself.

"We wish for you, all of you, to join the Order, and fight alongside us."

The room remained silent, each student completely transfixed upon Dumbledore. Mora didn't know how to react. In her eyes, none of the students were ready to jump head first into a war. They were hardly adults, how could they help defeat Voldemort? The Gryffindors in the room were the most immature group of people Mora had ever known, and all of a sudden they were supposed to join this secret army type organization?

"If you choose to join the Order, your will be faced with violence frequently. This involves a considerable amount of dueling, the capture and interrogation of dark wizards, a constant unpredictability," Dumbledore said gravely. "Life will not be easy. There is a great possibility you will be targeted for efforts with the Order. If you are not willing to lead this sort of life, you must decline to join the Order. No one will think any less of you, this is a very personal decision that you must make for yourself and yourself alone.

"Here on my desk is a sheet of paper. If you decide tonight that you do not wish to join the order, write your name under the column labeled _one_. But if you decide you are interested in the Order of the Phoenix, and you may want to become a member after graduation, write you name under the column labeled _two_. If you choose column two, you are in no way bound to join the Order, you can withdraw it at any time. But you must write your name in either column before leaving here tonight. We will now give you some time to decide amongst yourselves."

With this, Dumbledore lead the adults to the opposite end of the office and out the door. The door closed harshly, the sound of the collision ringing loudly threw the eerily silent office. All that remained were the eleven students, each staring at one another in a mix of awe, confusion, a mild horror.

"Well, look on the bright side," Sirius said, trying to break through the awful hush that encompassed the office. "We're not getting expelled."

"Might as well introduce ourselves," the Ravenclaw girl said, pushing her dark, bushy hair behind her ear. "Considering we may be fighting together. I'm Loretta Bones," she greeted.

"Figure I'm next," muttered the second Ravenclaw, a short boy with unruly ginger hair and gauntly pale skin. "Dearborn. Doc Dearborn, short for Caradoc, but my parents are deranged and needed to give me a grotesquely horrendous name."

"Rebecca Fenwick," the lone Hufflepuff greeted, a spitting image of Benjy, her younger brother in Gryffindor. Same peppy attitude, same dirty blonde hair, but apparently different enough to be in a different house.

"Catrina Meadows," the Slytherin said as she leaned up against the wall of the office, her arms crossed and her green eyes popping in the dim light. "The oh-so-amazing dueler with a stick permanently shoved up her arse would be my big sis."

"Well you're a breath of fresh air," Sirius commented.

"Watch it, kid," Catrina warned Sirius, "Or you'll regret it."

"We're all on the same side here, remember?" Emmeline interjected. "Anyways, I'm Emmy Taylor, this..." she gestured to Sirius, "is the obnoxious Sirius Black."

"And lovely, don't forget lovely!" Sirius added.

"Reamus Lupin," Reamus said.

"I'm Lily Evans," Lily smiled, "This is James Potter."

"Thanks luv," James said softly, rolling his eyes at Lily's eagerness.

"Pettigrew-Peter Pettigrew," Peter muttered. He always hated meeting new people and preferred to stay silent, Mora could tell by the rising pinkish color of his cheeks Peter fetl increasingly uncomfortable.

"Guess I'm last," Mora said. "Mora Ashford."

"So...Order of the Phoenix," Catrina mused. "That'll be fun."

"Fun?" Caradoc said. "You think risking your neck is just some good ol' time?"

"If you're such a coward then get out, Dearborn, and stop wasting our time," Catrina snapped back.

"This has nothing to do with being a coward," Loretta defended. "You heard Dumbledore, it's a personal decision."

"Yeah, decision to fight or run away with your tail between your legs," Catrina mumbled.

"Why do you have to be such a bi-"

"I'm warning you Black!"

"Can't you guys just give it a rest?" Reamus said.

"Keep out of it!"

"This is ridiculous..." Lily said, rolling her eyes.

"You want to say something, red?" Catrina spat out.

"Did you just call me _red_?"

"This is the dumbest argument I've ever heard -"

"Was someone talking to you, Fenwick?" Sirius said in annoyance.

As the bickering continued, Mora silently walked over to Dumbledore's desk. Snatching up the quill, she fireclay wrote her name under column two, slamming the quill back upon the desk along with her fist, causing a loud crashing sound. The noise instantly silenced the idiotic comments, and all eyes fell upon Mora.

"I suggest you all file the bloody hell out of here now," Mora spat out. "Look at you. A scared little bunch of kids. Rather fight like a bunch of brats rather than step up and do what is needed of you."

Catrina strode over to Mora, standing before her with her signature, burning intensity. "And what makes you think you're fit to fight?"

Mora stroke back at Catrina, her attempt at intimidation comical to Mora. "Because I'm not afraid to die."

"Somehow I doubt that," Catrina snickered.

"Really?" Mora mocked, pushing past Catrina. "Did you know I had a big family? Probably not. But yeah, a great, big family. Two older brothers, Joshua and Ardien, and a big sister, Clara. And my dad had to take care of us all, my mom, died while I was really young. But we were happy." Mora smiled slightly, remembering the faces of her fallen family. "Are lives were crazy as hell, moving all over the place all the bloody time. But no matter where we were, we always had each other."

"Touching," Catrina said under her breath.

Mora did not even bother to look in Catrina's direction. "Yeah, I guess it was, Meadows. That is, before Death Eaters slaughtered Josh, Clara, and Ardien. Then Voldemort murdered my father, and apparently since he has something against my family line, I'm the next on his hit list. Not a priority or anything, but if he sees me strolling down a street somewhere, he'll be sure to throw an Avada Kedavara my way. Is that warm and fuzzy enough for you, Meadows?"

Catrina said nothing. She store back at Mora, her eyes emotionless.

"Thought so," Mora said before turning to the rest of the students. "I watched each one of them die, I've been attacked, I've been tortured, I have seen what this war does to people. I am what this war creates. If I die, I die. If I live, then I'll probably die the next day. And the truth is, that's the way it is for everyone standing in this room. I wouldn't be surprised if half of us don't live to see our thirties."

"How do you figure?" Doc said softly, his tone flat and his question simple.

"You honestly think any of us can get on Voldemort's good side?" Mora answered. "Muggle borns, half bloods, the people Voldemort vows to exterminate. Or you could be like me, a blood traitor. Does anyone in this room seriously believe in pureblood domination?" Mora pasued, waiting for some sort of reaction from the others. It never came, as she had expected.

"I didn't think so," she continued. "No one in this room wants to see the Death Eaters get what they want, that makes us their enemies, which puts every one of us on the chopping block, whether you stuck yourself there or not."

Mora reached over to Dumbledore's desk and grabbed their sheet of paper. She held it in the air for all to see. "You're on the hit list, just like me, whether you like it or not. So, are you going to hide and watch others die to save your skin, or will you stand up to them?"

"Standing up doesn't necessarily mean joining this, this Order," Rebecca said.

"True," Reamus somewhat agreed. "But standing together, we have a shot. Fighting alone, they'll pick us apart one by one until there's nothing left."

"That's uplifting," Sirius commented.

"It's true," Loretta said. "We obviously don't all get along, but we don't need to be all lets-hold-hands-and-skip-through-the-meadow to do this."

"It would certainly help though," Doc mumbled.

"Fight or run, it's that simple," Mora said. "Do it for all of us, I don't mean everyone in this office, I mean _all_ of us. Every last misfit who has what it takes to fight together."

There were several moments of silence, moments where no one dared to move a muscle, where each student simply store at the parchment, making unbeatably the biggest decision of their lives. Breaking the stillness, Sirius lightly took hold of the parchment, slipping it out of Mora's fingers. He scooped up a quill from the headmaster's desk, and quickly scribbled his name in grand, script letters. Silently, he walked across the office and stood before Catrina. He handed her the parchment with a quill and then backed away to stand beside Mora. Catrina nodded to Mora slowly before she two signed her name underneath column two.

The list was passed around in complete silence, until all eleven students autographed under column two. Not a word was uttered between the students as they left the office, leaving the parchment upon Dumbledore's desk. The next generation of soldiers had risen.


	38. Reassurance

38. Reassurance

The late spring breeze roamed across the grounds, blowing through Mora's chestnut curls roughly until they had become an utter mess. She knew her once neatly combed hair now resembled something closer to a bird's nest, but she shook the horror of her appearance out of her mind, returning to less pleasant thoughts. Mora rested near the edge of the lake as she dazed off into the horizon. Her eyes were unable to focus on one thing for more than a few moments, mirroring the restlessness of her mood.

Her jeans felt coarse against her skin, and the knees of the pants were completely faded. Mora hardly had any of her own clothes to wear when she wasn't in her uniform, due to her dangerous lack of money. Her one pair of jeans, two pairs of other pants, five shirts, and one skirt were becoming dangerously worn out. Mora knew her financial situation was dangerous, as she had very low funds given to her through an agency in the ministry. Her _orphan_ status entitled her to a few galleons in the mail once a month, however it would abruptly end once she graduated from Hogwarts. Mora honestly did not care about that, considering the amount Mora received was so minuscule she did not understand why the ministry bothered to send her anything at all.

Mora sighed heavily, thoughts of money blowing out of her head just like the breeze. One pervading fact kept Mora aloof that Sunday afternoon. Kept Mora secluded the entire afternoon, to waste the day away in her own private torment. A certain, somewhat hooky holiday pervaded on this day, and although the residents of Hogwarts had no real way to celebrate this date, Mora still could not stand the swarm of owls launched from the castle every minute of the day, some seventh years popping in and out of the castle to spend a few precious hours at home to celebrate, it all made Mora feel alienated.

For other teenagers, this was another excuse to spend a day at home, doing whatever their mother wishes. Another day to empty your piggy bank for a present she'll probably hate anyways, but will appreciate the thought attached to it. And despite the entire effort of the holiday, other teenagers still did not understand how blessed they truly were. How their seemingly average day with their mothers was something Mora had never known. This Sunday afternoon was just another chance for the world to take their luck for granted. But for Mora, it was a day for an awkward, frustrating isolation.

It was Mother's Day.

Mora once had a family. A father, brothers, a sister, and for whatever short span of time, they were all with her. One by one they were picked apart, leaving Mora here today, alone and heartbroken. Yet despite her current situation, Mora had at least one memory of each of her family members. Several of her father, Ardien teaching her Quidditch, all of the Cartea children trying to sleep in the damp cabin, yet almost every image ended in Mora's dark reality.

The strongest pictures in Mora's mind were that of her family being ripped away from her, each murder that Mora witnessed a constant reminder of what price those close to her had to pay. Even though the memories turned scarring, she still had them. A little piece in her heart to remind her that they lived, all four of these Carteas walked the earth, loved her, died for her.

But the last Cartea eluded Mora's memory. The alpha female of the Cartea family, the primary protector and nurturer, her mother. The woman who brought Mora into this world. It dumbfounded Mora that someone who had to be so influential in her life still remained a mystery of her. Memories of the rest of her family already surfaced, why not one of her mother? Was it because of the side effects of a tempari? Or was it because even before Mora's first tempari, what if Mora never remembered her mother? What if growing up, Mora did not have the slightest inkling about her?

What had happened to Mora's mother? Had she died when Mora was just a baby, as her father had claimed? Had she been killed, fallen victim to the Death Eaters as the rest of the Cartea's had? Dying in order to protect the people she loved, or mistaken to be Mora and murdered for their physical resemblance like Clara had? Could her end be from something less sinister? Possibly natural causes, not a brutal slaughter? Was it even possible that she lead a somewhat normal life, before the Carteas were hunted down?

No matter how much Mora wanted to believe her mother died giving the ultimate sacrifice and loving her family with every ounce of her being, she could not rule out another possibility. The same destruction that befell millions of other families, why should Mora's have been any different? What if Mora's mother simply left? Walked out on her children and husband, abandoned them to be free once again? Did she pursue her life without her family, finally happy to be rid of them?

Mora groaned as she ripped a handful of grass out of the ground in frustration. How would Mora even now the truth? It's not as if Mora could even truly find the answers, not even Dumbledore knew exactly what time period her family existed in. There was no way to every discover what happened. Unless Mora suddenly had another memory explaining her mother's disappearance, she would remain clueless. Mora had only one memory since her seventh year began. She truly believed she had run dry in the past category, and decided she would have to accept that the very limited memories she possessed now would be the last of them.

"I thought I saw yer sneaking about back 'ere," a voice greeted, the ground beneath Mora shaking a bit as her friend sat beside her.

"I'm not sneaking," Mora defended lightly, although Hagrid was able to see straight through her.

"Right, which is why yer've been scampering about on ter grounds all day, and every time someone yer recognized came near, yer went off in the other direction," Hagrid disclosed.

"Are you spying on me or something?" Mora asked, diverting the attention off herself and onto another matter entirely.

"No...But I am the games keeper, Mora. I have ter be outside pretty often," Hagrid answered, "Now what's upsetting yer?"

"Nothing," Mora said sharply as she adverted her eyes back out to lake. "I just don't feel like being around people today, alright?"

Hagrid sighed, moving his gaze towards the horizon. "Nice weather today we 'ave," Hagrid said thoughtfully. Mora did not respond, and instead sat awkwardly beside Hagrid within her forced silence.

"I 'aven't seen my mum in years," Hagrid stated simply, "Not years, decades."

Mora snapped her head towards Hagrid. She never heard Hagrid speak about his family, she only knew that his father was a wizard, and his mother one of the last British giants. The only thing Mora did know was that in the time they were at Hogwarts together, both of Hagrid's parents were gone. Mora never wanted to press the matter with him, not wanting to hurt him or force him into remembering something he may have put behind him. Mora understood the pain that came with losing family, she knew she could be doing more harm than good by bringing up the topic.

"She left me an' my dad. Just up and abandoned us out 'a the blue," Hagrid said. He still looked before him, not returning Mora's gaze. "Never knew why. She died years ago."

"Do you remember her?" Mora asked softly.

"I remember she was awful big," Hagrid admitted, chuckling softly "Nah, she left when I was three. I guess that was just in 'er nature, can't really blame 'er. Nope, it's not like a giantess to tie herself down to a wizard forever. We got by without 'er though, then my dad passed on when I was in my second year 'ere."

Hagrid turned his eyes towards Mora, a small smile creased over his features. "Thank you, Hagrid," Mora said gently.

"Nah, don't you thank me," Hagrid grinned, "I was just honest with yer. I thought you'd be a bit down today, considering it's Mother's Day and all that."

"It's just so, so frustrating," Mora moaned as she leaned forward. "Everyone's just so bloody happy or indifferent or whatever today, and I'm beating myself up, going through my five or six memories just trying to pick up a bit of my mum. And each time I come up blank."

"There aint' no need for yer to beat yerself up, Mora," Hagrid offered. "It won't help yer learn anything about her."

"I just wish..." Mora said, "I wish I knew whether she loved me or not."

"That's something I can't tell yer, Mora," Hagrid said. "But, what I can say is she would had ter be crazy not to love you."

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Mora smiled gently as she inched her way further down the corridor. It was getting late, and an impromptu visit to the kitchens was sure to cheer Mora up. Her conversation with Hagrid by the lake did improve upon her mood, however she could not help but shake off the gloom that hung over her that day.

"Mind if I join you, milady?" a cheerful Sirius greeted. Mora spun around, expecting to the familiar troublesome face of Sirius Black. Yet, the corridor was seemingly deserted. "Under here," he explained. Instantly the image of Sirius appeared as the boy peeled James' invisibly cloak away.

"You'll give me heart attack with that thing, Black," Mora commented. "And what are you doing with that thing so early? What is it, ten o'clock?"

"Nine thirty actually," Sirius answered.

"So, why are you out here?" Mora repeated.

"Lily told me she hadn't seen you since she got back," Sirius explained quickly, "So I figured I'd come find you -"

"You figured," Mora said, "Meaning you don't like the idea of me walking the halls alone in the dark, do you?"

"Don't be angry -"

"I'm not Sirius," Mora said truthfully. "It was over a month ago, Sirius. I'm not saying I'm over it, Merlin no, sometimes I still think I -" Mora stopped herself quickly.

"Point is, Colton won't come near me. He doesn't know why he didn't get into any sort of trouble, but he's not about to press his luck. Trust me; I won't be bumping into him."

"That's not it, I just..." Sirius started, "Never mind. Let's just walk."

The two walked further, until Sirius finally broke the pleasant silence. "So where were you today?"

"Around," Mora answered quickly. She looked back to Sirius, who raised his eyebrows in his Sirius-Black-knows-all fashion.

Mora sighed, knowing Sirius could see straight through her dodge. "I just wanted to be alone, you know, today and all..."

"Mother's Day, not the most pleasant Sunday in my book either," Sirius said. "Of course Reggie went back to the old House 'O Black, the poor puppy that he is...Nope, not me, just got a few extra hours of sleep, pretended the study for like five minutes, and slept some more."

"Thrilling," Mora said dully.

"Better than avoiding your friends like the plague."

"I don't need to justify myself to you, Sirius," Mora snapped suddenly, wanting to drop the subject immediately.

"Don't mean to be nosy," Sirius began, slowing their pace. "That day, in Dumbledore's office, you told us about your family -"

"I remember," Mora said softly. She was not in the right mind at the moment to go back into her life story. She lived it, there was no need to relay every horrific detail to Sirius.

"It's just, the only other time we ever spoke about it was on Christmas, at the Potters'," Sirius continued, his normal haughty tone of voice melted away. He walked another step or two as he tried to gather his thoughts. "You know you can talk to me, anytime."

"Sirius, it was years ago..."

"You shouldn't have to do this alone, Mora," Sirius said suddenly, his emotion coming through his voice a bit harsher than intended. "I mean, you never talk about where you come from! Your family might as well be-"

"They're dead, Sirius," Mora said, with no expression in her voice. "It's done. There's nothing I can do. There's no point in it."

"It's just-you don't deserve the keep that all inside you, you're gonna blow, Mora," Sirius warned. "And now that we've joining the Order..."

"What do you think is gonna happen?" Mora asked sharply. "That one day I'll say _Gee, my life sucks so much, I'm just going to march up to Voldemort with a big sign saying "Avada Kedavara me" on my back_? Well thanks Doctor Black, but I think I can handle this."

"Mora, stop!" Sirius cut off your melodramatic monologue. "I don't think you're going to be suicidal, it's just, I -"

"Merlin Sirius! Just spit it out!"

"I CARE ABOUT YOU!" Sirius blurted out in frustration. "Okay, you're my friend, and I care about you. So sue me!"

Mora took a step back, unsure of how to react. Sure, she made true friends here in Gryffindor, something she had not known before her first tempari. But yet something in Sirius' voice sounded so foreign to Mora. She was rendered silent. Even though she did have friends, Mora often felt alienated, memories of Tom and her family keeping her past locked away from the world. And here Sirius was, so clueless and naive to the dark truth which encompassed Mora Cartea. Yet now, here he was, his heart open, his concern for Mora genuine.

"I hate to see you like this, when you're just, so..."

"Broken?" Mora echoed.

"I just don't want-"

But Mora interrupted Sirius' explanations, as instantly she threw herself into his arms, hugging him so tightly she was sure she would cut his circulation off. Little did she know how much that embrace truly meant to Sirius.


	39. Good Ol' Uncle Al

39. Good Ol' Uncle Al

"YES! YES, YES, YES!"

"What the bloody -"

"AHHH YES!"

The Great Hall was at its normal comfy capacity, the majority of the students enjoying breakfast. Seventh years played nervously with their food, knowing in a few hours the exams they planned for the entire year would be upon them. Yet as Sirius Black raced into the hall, a piece of parchment clutched in his grip, shouting in wild delight, those who noticed him watched in surprise.

The familiar group of Gryffindors all reacted somewhat differently to Sirius' apparent hysteria. James looked up from his breakfast at Sirius, interested, yet still shoveling eggs into his wide open mouth. Reamus simply shook his head as he watched his friend prance about the Great Hall. Lily was too busy cramming for her exams, although she had been studying for months and was fully prepared, to even notice. Emmeline shriveled her nose, somewhat annoyed by Sirius' behavior. Mora and Peter both were unsure of how to react to Sirius, and simply watched him in awe and mild amusement.

"YESSSSSSS!"

"For Merlin's sake, what is it, Sirius!" Emmeline said as Sirius arrived before his friends.

Sirius, too excited to form anything in English, thrusted the paper into Emmeline's face. She plucked it away and read aloud. "Mister Sirius Black, we regret to inform you of the passing of Alphard T. Black, on May the twelfth at precisely seven in the evening-Hold it! You're _cheering _over this?"

"Sirius!" Lily scolded. "Your family is dreadful, but that's just so disgustingly morbid -"

"HEY - I've never even seen the man. My mum always said he was a bit off his rocker, so being the kind hearted sister she was, she acted like he never existed. So unlike her, right?" he explained, still beaming. "Just keep reading!"

"Alright, calm down there tiger," Emmeline answered, brining the letter back to eye level. "Blah, blah, blah, division of the assets, blah, bah-Hey!"

"Division of the assets?" Peter echoed.

"His will," Reamus explained. "He left you something then?"

Emmeline put the letter onto the table. "Something? There are so many zeros in that number I can't read it without getting dizzy!"

"I'M RICH!" Sirius boomed. "I NEVER HAVE TO WORK! I'M SET FOR LIFE!"

"Bloody hell," Mora said, "And you've never spoken to this man before?"

"Nota once!" Sirius exclaimed. "And look, this is what he wrote in his will, it's bloody brilliant, I wished I waited to rub it in my family's face like good ol' Uncle Al did."

James took the parchment and skimmed down to the part Sirius was referring too. "Here it is: '_And to all my dear cousins and my darling sister, I leave a generous endowment of zeros galleones, zero sickles, and zero knuts. I herby leave all of my worldly possessions to my nephew, Sirius Black, in hopes he can keep the tradition of utter disgrace to the Black name alive and kickning now that I have passed on...' _And your mum had no idea your uncle was like this?"

"She said he was nuts, I guess this is why," Sirius smiled.

"You've got more than just money, Padfoot," Reamus pointed out. "Look, you've got his house too. Seven bedrooms, five baths - Sirius, what are you going to do with that much space!"

"Well," Sirius said, shoving his way between Mora and Reamus upon the bench at the table, putting his arms around both of them. "I was hoping my dead-beat mates could use a place to stay, considering they haven't found anything better than a dumpy flat in the middle of -"

But he was cut off as Mora hugged Sirius so tightly he was left gasping for air. "I know, I know, I'm amazing," he choked out before Mora released him.

"Living with Sirius Black, I may go mad," Reamus smiled.

"But in a big fancy schlep of a house!" Sirius answered.

"Sirius, you have no idea what this means," Mora said, "Merlin, how can we thank you?"

"Sexual favors?"

Mora went to smack Sirius, as she normally would, yet three other hands had beaten her to it; Emmeline, Lily, and Peter striking all Sirius.

"You're such a pig," Mora said as she rolled her eyes.

"But a pig with a fancy new place," Sirius added.

"True, true..."

"Eh, if I get's me into the house, I'll do it," Reamus said, "Doesn't mean I have to like it..."

"Suit yourself then!" Mora laughed.

"Are you sure we'll be able to put up with, _this_?" Emmeline said, motioning to Sirius across the table from her. "I mean, living with him?"

"Gee, you suffocate me with your affection, Emmy," Sirius moaned.

"Ehh, after I curse him a few times, he'll let me be," Mora smiled.

"Nah, you love me..."

Mora looked back to Sirius, before answering with an unenthused, "Meeeeeeh."

Mora could not help but conceal her excitement. Finding a place to live certainly became a daunting challenge. She feared she may have put it off for so long she would never find a home, and Reamus found himself in the same predicament, as did Emmeline. Peter already accepted the fact he would remain at home, to care for his ailing mother. And James and Lily were going to be together, wherever they ended up. Of course, Reamus and Emmy alike had the option of staying with their parents for a bit longer. Mora had nowhere in this world to go.

The thought of Mora, Reamus, Emmeline, and Sirius all under the same roof seemed to hysterical; Mora knew she wouldn't get much quiet time in that zoo.

"Hope you lot don't tear each other apart," James said. 

"How's the house hunting you two?" Mora asked James and Lily.

"Nothing," Lily said, slamming her potions book. "The flat we want won't be vacant until August."

"You know what that means..." James hinted.

"Bunking with the parents?" Mora asked.

"Awww, Momma Potter will love you, Lil!" Sirius said.

Lily smiled. "True, if she took you in..."

"Ouch, what is it? Let's-all-harass-Sirius Day?" Sirius exclaimed.

"Course not, Padfoot," Peter said, "That's Wednesdays."

"OOOOOH!" Emmeline and Mora laughed, surprised by Peter's sudden comedic timing.

"Fine, have your fun, you lot," Sirius threw his hands in the air as he rose from the table. "BUT I'M RICH! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!"

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"Well, I found that rather pleasant," Sirius mused as he, James, and Reamus strolled through the castle.

Their charms exam had just ended, and all three boys were convinced that each failed miserably. Utterly bored and not willing to devout this short time to further studies, as the others were, the three simply passed the time, secretly hoping they managed to get lost in the castle and miss their remaining NEWTS.

"You're mad then," Reamus said.

Sirius smiled. "That I am."

"After that test, I wish I hadn't studied either, then I could have topped Sirius' little act," James complimented. "Refusing to answer half the questions on the grounds it went against his religious beliefs. Bloody brilliant."

"And I may even get away with it!" Sirius added. "Thinking about it, I'm gonna miss these Professors. Merlin knows they'll miss me."

"Hmmf," Reamus laughed. "You know, if you do the same for the rest of your NEWTS as you just did, you may get to see them for another whole year."

"On second thought, I guess I'll change my _religious beliefs_," Sirius said. "What do these stupid exams matter anyways? We're bloody adults! Going off into the big-bad world in a matter of days! We shouldn't' have to take these ruddy things unless we want to!"

"But alas, Hogwarts is so cruel," James mocked.

"This place has been pretty good to us," Reamus reminisced. "After all, we pulled off our greatest stunts within these walls."

"Guess we'll have to keep it up once we're gone," Sirius said.

"Speak for yourself," James said. "First living back at home with my parents and my girlfriend, my mum would murder me. And then living with just Lily, well...Lily would do much worse than that!"

"Not to mention, our new roommates don't hold your same ruthless sense of humor," Reamus added.

"Dear, dear Moony," Sirius said, "My house, my rules."

"I honestly think you're both mental," James muttered.

"And beyond the obvious, why is that, Prongs?" Sirius asked.

"Well, you just agreed to live with Mora _and_ Emmeline."

"And, your point?" Reamus said.

"Last time I checked," James began, "you were both madly in love with them, yet too damn stubborn to admit it. You honestly think you can hold in your secrets while they're sleeping under the same roof?"

"I did it for years here," Reamus admitted, "I guess I can pull it off in the new house for another decade or so."

"Well, you're an idiot," James stated quickly, "And you," he said, turning his attention to Sirius. "How are you going to hold up Mister _Sexual Favors_?"

Sirius pointed a finger to his head. "All up here, mate."

"Oh no..." Reamus sighed, "You think living with you will make Mora feel the same-"

"Moony, I take back what I said," James said, cutting off Sirius' plan. "Padfoot, _you're_ the idiot."

"Oh c'mon!" Sirius grinned. "Once Sirius Black turns on the charm -"

"Mora runs off screaming in the night," James joked, causing him and Reamus to laugh.

"Joke all you want," Sirius said, "But once Mora and I are the next Mister James Evans, I might just have to say I told ya' so."

"Who knows," Reamus said, "You may end up marrying the girl."

All three walked down the hallway, laughing together. The image of Sirius Black, arrogant ladies man extraordinaire, one day chained down to one woman the rest of his natural born life. Sirius Black and commitment were not words often used together in a sentence. The three boys chuckled at this image, enjoying this time together before they were forced to return to preparation hell for their NEWTS.

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"Be down in five!" Mora shouted out the door of the girl's bedroom.

"You better!" Lily called back.

Mora sighed, pushing away from the door. She honestly did not care whether she got down to the exam in two minutes or twenty, but she certainly did not want to give Lily a full-fledged panic attack. Small things like tardiness did not usually agitate the pristine Miss Evans, however with NEWT exams in a matter of minutes, anything set Lily off like a nuclear bomb. Mora only needed to throw on her uniform sweater and she was ready to go. Emmeline still lingered in the lavatory, obsessing over her makeup as she did every morning.

Mora moved across the room, pulling her sweater out from her trunk carelessly. She pulled it over her head, destroying all the work she had done brushing her hair. Grudgingly, she scooped her brush into her fist, ripping it through the brown mess. A small, whizzing sound buzzed. Suddenly it became louder and louder, like it was charging towards Mora. Turning to face the origin of the noise, Mora faced the window, and saw an envelope smash into the glass. When the letter could not penetrate through the window and get inside, it tried again and again, throwing itself at the window.

Shaking her head, Mora pushed open the window, and the letter soared into the dormitory. The bright magenta envelope contorted into the shape of lips, pursed and ready to speak. Mora braced herself, she had heard of howlers, but had never received one before in her life. Yet when the letter began to speak, its voice was not booming or angry, but sweet and high pitched.

"Miss Emmeline Taylor," the letter announced. "We are pleased to inform you, you have been accepted to the internship program at Witch's Weekly -"

But Mora never got to hear the rest of the message, as the sounds of Emmeline's ear shattering screech droned out the body of the letter. Emmeline charged into the dormitory, jumping from foot to foot around the room as her screams heightened. She snatched the lavender letter of the air and hugged it to her chest, still yelling in delight.

"What's going on?" Lily roared as she barged into the room. Her wand was drawn, afraid there was actual danger provoking Emmeline's reaction.

"I GOT IT! I GOT THE JOB!" Emmeline shouted, waving the letter above her head.

"YOU GOT THE JOB!" Lily shrieked, joining Emmeline's celebratory jumping.

"I GOT IT!" Emmeline said as she and Lily embraced, hopping about at the same time.

"Well, get in here!" Lily said, motioning to Mora.

Shrugging, Mora tossed her hairbrush carelessly over her shoulder, and instantly began leaping with the other girls. After several more moments of excitement, the three finally ceased their jumping, still huddled around Emmeline. "Em, I didn't even know you applied," Mora said.

"I only told Lil," Emmeline confessed, "I just didn't want everyone knowing in case I didn't get it. BUT I GOT IT!"

"What did you get?" Peter asked, now standing in the doorway of the room. "Merlin, I thought you were being tortured to death or something, what was it? Warts Charm?"

"No, Pete, it wasn't something so...nasty," Emmeline said gleefully, waving the crumpled letter in Peter's face. "I GOT THE JOB!"

"What job?" Peter asked, his disappointment glowing that he had been left out of the loop, yet again.

"Witch Weekly!" Emmeline shrieked.

"None of us knew, Peter, don't worry about it," Mora said reassuringly, and Peter smiled instantly.

"Congratulations Em!" he smiled.

"Merlin, can you imagine it?" Emmeline went on. " Me! Working at the most popular magazine in all of London!"

"Can you imagine Emmeline actually _working_?" Mora said. "We're almost grown up, you guys."

"Just a two more weeks and we're out," Peter said.

"It's so odd," Lily added, "The _real world_. No more cushy walls of Hogwarts. No more library only a few steps away..."

Mora watched Lily's expression turn grim. "I'm not leaving!" Lilly howled.

"I'm sure you'll manage Lil," Emmeline said.

"Besides, I can always give you a discount, considering you'll be in the shop all the bloody time," Peter said.

Peter smiled softly. Mora knew the Pettigrew's family business was not what Peter wanted to do with his life. Running their old book store in Hogsmede was not something he intended upon doing. But now that his father had left, Peter knew he needed to support his mother, he did not have time to train for any other job. Mora knew all the excitement over Emmeline and her dream job certainly was another blow to Peter's self esteem.

"You bet I will," Lily grinned.

"We all will, Pete," Emmeline added.


	40. Moving On

40. Moving On

"For the last time, Mister Black, if you refuse to take this practice seriously, you will not be permitted to attend tomorrow!" McGonagall boomed over the masses of seventh years in the Great Hall. Smirking to himself, Sirius finally obeyed, tired of hearing the Gryffindor Head bark at him every other minute.

Graduation rehearsal definitely was not the most thrilling thing in Sirius Black's agenda for a Friday evening, but there he was. Stuck practicing processing in and processing out, only to do it again and again. It didn't take hours of preparation to walk, and in Sirius' mind, this was the last batch of sheer torture before Hogwarts freed him from the confines of educational conformity. Of course Sirius knew auror training was not going to be a picnic either, but with James' by his side he'd manage it.

"As I was saying," McGonagall continued, addressing the entirety of the seventh years, "You are to arrive at least thirty minutes prior to the graduation, dressed in your robes and ready to proceed in -"

"Right, like I need to mentally prepare myself for this all..." Sirius droned under his breath, although due to alphabetical seating, none of his friends were in earshot of his complaint.

"-I expect you to be on your best behavior," the professor's glare pointed towards Sirius, noting his unnecessary commentary. "As long as everything goes as smoothly as it just has, the graduation tomorrow afternoon will be perfect. Remember -"

Yet Sirius paid no attention to the rest of McGonagall's words. The entire evening at rehearsal it took every ounce of self control - which surprisingly Sirius still had some - to refrain from strangling to death the student seated to his left.

It had been months since that night. Everyone managed to _move on_, or in reality, they all seemed to suppress Sirius' need for revenge. The group tried to reintegrate themselves into normal, Hogwarts life. And surprisingly, for the most part, they had succeeded. Time passed before things ever really turned _normal_; Sirius went to class, Sirius played Quidditch, he had fun with his friends, and life reverted back to its old self. But whenever Sirius noticed him in the corner of his eye, or spotted him across the room and passed him in the hall, the desire to rip his limbs apart piece by piece leapt up again.

And now, beside Sirius sat the person he loathed with every fiber inside him in the world, the person who came into a close third behind Sirius' parents and brother for the coveted _Biggest Scum on the Planet_ award. It absolutely bewildered Sirius how this parasite was able to walk to halls of this school as if he were just another student. As if he didn't deserve to have the soul sucked out of him by a kiss-happy dementor.

It was like what he did was cleared away, excusable because of his high-powered last name. On account of money and most likely his father's intimidation, he went on with his life. Went to school, got to graduate, would move onto a life and career completely unscathed. No consequences to his actions would ever touch. While Mora would forever be affected by what he did to her, he moved on without a scratch. Life was always golden for a Bayard.

"That is all. You are dismissed for the evening."

As McGonagall's word's faded, the Great Hall filled with chatter as the students moved on to enjoy what was left of their Friday night, their last night in Hogwarts. Yet all Sirius could do was watch Colton quickly stride away from his seat next to Sirius, only to meet up with the other Slytherins and vanish from sight, laughing at some private joke Sirius was too far away to overhear. Mora anger consumed Sirius' thoughts than he knew he could muster. After years of hell growing up with the Black family, he never held this form of fury inside.

"You alright in there?"

Sirius blinked, looking up at Mora. She gazed down to him with concern, noticing he had yet to move from his seat. "Wha-Yeah, fine," Sirius blurted out quickly as he stood from the chair.

"I expected you to bolt straight out of here," Mora added, "Getting sentimental?" 

"What can I say, I will miss my dear school," Sirius lamented. As long as Mora assumed Sirius' sudden melancholy was due to graduation, he would not lead her to think otherwise. Never would he bring up the subject of Colton Bayard in front of her.

No matter how much Sirius hated Colton Bayard, he could never. Despite his desire to make him pay, to see justice and to finally rid the world of that psychotic filth, Sirius would never act on it. It would kill her to hear his name. Her wishes were to move on, not to forget what happened, but to _heal_. Even if it meant Bayard escaped unpunished, it was what she wanted.

No matter how much Sirius hated Colton Bayard, he loved Mora more.

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The evening air was light and warm as summer began to descend upon Hogwarts. A mist of stars shroud the skies as a young couple walked down the grounds, recalling memories of their time at the school and preparing to say goodbye to the place they had called a home for seven years. With graduation looming ahead the next morning, Lily Evans knew her life as well as the lives of her friends were about to change drastically. James Potter understood this as well. However as six of the friends would start to wade into the waters of adulthood, James decided to dive head first.

_Just breathe Potter..._ James told himself as his nerves grew stronger. _Breathe and it'll be fine. There's nothing to worry about..._

James gulped as he looked towards Lily's direction. The instant he caught sight of those emerald eyes piercing through the darkness he felt that same terror swell inside him.

_Yeah, nothing to worry about except a humiliating and traumatizing rejection..._

James silenced his thoughts, taking another deep breath in. It would all work out, all he had to do was relax. It was just one little question, a few short words James' needed to spurt out. So why in Merlin's name was he panicking like a little girl?

James smiled as he took Lily's hand and guided her towards the lake. "Do you remember the day we met?" He finally asked as the pair drew closer to the lake.

"Hmmm," Lily said, "Somewhat. I remember loathing you."

"That's all? Miss Innocence?"

"Why, was there more?" Lily giggled.

"Well, when all I was trying to do was be friendly, you stomped on my foot," James recalled. "Hard."

"I did not!" Lily protested playfully.

"You did so! And I had a bruise! And it hurt!" James whined, his fingers still interlocked with Lily's.

Lily laughed again. "I never realized you were such a wimp. Granted, I knew you were a bit of a twinkle toes, but not a wimp."

"What can I say, I tend to lose my balance when stunning redheads come into the picture."

James watched Lily blush, an felt a moment of relief. _Just keep going, James, keep going and don't mess this up_... "That's the way I've always felt around you."

"What? In immediate pain?" Lily asked.

"No!" James said quickly.

"Then what is it?"

"Well, first there's awe," James started, "Since that stunningly beautiful witch is standing right in front of me."

Lily rolled her eyes, trying to brush off James' adoration nonchalantly. Yet the increasing scarlet color of her cheeks proved to James his honest flattery was getting to the redhead. He continued, trying to recount to cascade of emotions he linked with the girl he loved.

"Then that awe sort of turns into fear. No, not fear," James recounted, "Pure terror."

"I never knew I was that frightening of a person," Lily said.

"Not so much you," James said, "More so along the lines of '_what can I possibly do to impress her_,' or '_oh Merlin please don't let me humiliate myself_.' And on the rare occasions when I don't make a complete arse out of myself, and when I'm with you, it's exhilarating."

_Keep going Potter, just keep at it..._

"It's like, every second I'm with you, I'm finally alive," James admitted. "Up until then I was asleep, and once you're near me everything is just so...brilliant."

James felt himself stop abruptly as Lily brought their pace to a halt. Stepping directly in front on him, Lily kissed James fiercely, taking the boy completely off guard. As she pulled away, Lily replied softly, "I feel the same way."

James' heart began beating faster and faster. He knew this was it, the time to finally ask her. Never before in his life had James ever experience such a rush of excitement and anxiety, and he tried to ignore the conflicting sensations. "And I want to feel that way for the rest of my life," he said quickly.

James rushed his free hand into his pocket, taking hold of the small velvet box. His fingers shook violently the second he felt the box brush against his hand. But with another, forced breath, James managed to control the shaking. Delicately he pulled it out, and the second Lily caught sight of it, she spurt a quick, "Oh Merlin..."

"That's about how I feel right at the moment as well," James answered. His grip on Lily's hand grew tighter as he store back into her jade eyes, trying to scrap up whatever bit of confidence he had. "Lily, you make me the happiest I've ever been. And I know that's how it's meant to be. If you let me, I can make you happy for the rest of your life."

"Bloody hell..." Lily muttered as her eyes began to well with tears.

"Language, Lil," James smiled. And with that, James took a step away from Lily, getting down in to the traditional one-kneed pose. Taking one last gulp of air, James opened the small box, the reflection of the diamond glistening through the darkness. "Lily Evans," James choked out, "Will you marry me?"

"Of course you idiot!" Lily called out as she pulled James to his feet.

"Yes?" he asked excitedly, being sure Lily hadn't just given him some sort of veiled rejection.

"Yes!" Lily answered before charging at James for another, passionate kiss. James lifted Lily off her feet and twirled her around, and after their lips broke apart he started yelling in triumph "SHE SAID YES! I'M MARRYING LILY EVANS!"

"You're going to be Mister Lily Evans," Lily laughed as James' shouts continued, her feet still above the ground in James' grasp.

"That I am, luv," he beamed, "And I've never been happier. CAUSE I'M MARRYING _THE_ LILY EVANS!"

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"And now," Dumbledore concluded, beaming with pride as he ended the graduation ceremony. "I am proud to present the Graduating Class of Nineteen Seventy-Nine!"

Cheers erupted from across the Great Hall as each new graduate rose to their feet, tossing their caps into the air in joyous celebration. Enchanted gold and silver confetti cascaded from the middle of the ceiling as the shouts of festivity continued.

Mora was the last to hurl her cap into the air, cheering as loud as her lungs would permit. It had seemed impossible, but Mora had done it. The girl with no past and no hope of survival for the future had made it further than ever expected of her. Mora Cartea, hidden safely from the rest of the scrutinizing world under the guise of Ashford, managed to graduate from school. Though she left behind one of the only places she could ever truly call home, Mora knew she was ready.

The future had never offered anything to Mora. For what Mora could remember, the future made a new fight for survival, another rogue to hide from, and another disaster to avert. Nothing ever looked bright ahead for Mora. But now, Mora had a chance. She could taste tomorrow, and for the first time it wasn't bitter. A new house awaited her and her friends, as well as training at St. Mungo's with Lily, and soon she would start working with the Order of the Phoenix.

True, Mora knew many daunting and trying times awaited her, darkness beyond her conception. Yet Mora had experienced first had the danger threatening the wizarding world. She had witnessed the destruction of her family, slaughtered due to the mark of their surname. She once stood beside the boy who grew to be the most vicious and twisted man the wizarding world had ever seen. Mora understood all too well the truth of what working for the Order would entail for her.

But Mora knew she was ready. For too long had she trembled behind the safety of Dumbledore and Hogwarts. It was time she stood on her own two feet and fought for what she believed in. The burden of her secret was too much to ask Dumbledore and James to carry solely for the rest of Mora's days. She was ready to take up full responsibility for herself. Mora Ashford, no matter how near to perfect her life seemed to be, would forever be the same Mora Cartea. However Mora was much different than the night nearly two years ago when her tempari sent her crashing into the castle. Hogwarts changed Mora, as it did for all of its inhabitants.

"WE DID IT!" the screeching voice of Sirius Black shouted as she charged Mora and picked her up off her feet. He spun her around in a complete circle before placing her back on the ground. "WE'RE DONE!"

"I know!" Mora laughed as she pulled Sirius back for another hug. "We're out! We've made it!"

"And you know what the best part is?" Sirius continued on as the remainder of the seven friends joined them.

"The absolute freedom of adulthood?" Reamus chimed in.

"The _no more teachers, no more books_ song and dance?" Peter also answered.

"Finally being able to take control of our own bloody lives?" Emmeline said.

"NO MORE UNIFORMS!" Sirius screamed in delight. He reached under his graduation robes, ripping out the small gold and red tie and shaking it triumphantly in his fist through the air. "I never have to wear this ridiculous thing again!"

"Leave it to Sirius to get excited over stripping," Lily joked, her fingers locked with James, the diamond engagement ring on her finger gleaming blindingly.

"Merlin, I forgot how big that rock is," Mora smiled as she covered her eyes from the glare.

"It's all happening so fast!" Peter squeaked, "You're getting married! And we're all leaving school! And Sirius is stripping!"

"That last part isn't really new, Wormtail," James added.

"He's right though," Reamus said. "We're growing up."

"Phfft. I think graduation makes us fully-grown," Emmeline reasoned.

"C'mon! We're just getting older!" Sirius laughed, "It's not like we're dying or anything!"

"Well, you might be dying if you take anything else off!" Emmeline commented as she snatched Sirius' tie out of his hand.

"You know you like it, Em," Sirius joked as he pulled the collar of his robes down momentarily.

"Ooh-yeah," Emmeline said, her voice void of all emotion.

Mora couldn't help but smile. Sure, they were growing up, but it would take much more than throwing them out into the real world to take the kids out of the Marauders. You could take the Marauders out of Hogwarts, but you couldn't take Hogwarts out of the Marauders.


	41. A Busy Summer

41. A Busy Summer

"Ready to see our new home?" Sirius beamed as he stood before the threshold of the house. From the exterior, the house looked as if no one had entered it in centuries. The long, barren lawn grew unevenly, in some spots it was up to Sirius' ankles, and in others there was none to cover the dark patches of dirt. The forest green paint of the monstrously sized house chipped away slightly, and several shingles of the roof were in need of desperate repair. But Sirius felt the run-down manor had an endearing quality to it. In its own odd way, Sirius found the house to be unconventionally beautiful.

"Just open the bloody door, Black!" Emmeline demanded as she and Mora reached the front porch, their arms overloaded with boxes.

"C'mon! This is the entire point of move-in day! All that sentimental bullock…"

"Because you're really one for sentiments, right Sirius?" Reamus said as he joined besides the girls, holding in one hand his suitcase, and in the other Sirius'.

"I just want to remember this!" Sirius exclaimed. "The first day of the rest of my life."

"How about in terms not so solemn?" Mora plopped her box down before her feet onto the wooden porch.

"NO MORE PARENTS!" Sirius yelped with ebullience as he threw open the door. He dashed into the house, leaving his three roommates behind to follow.

Sirius' grin did not fade as he gazed around his new home. The front foyer was decorated as many pure-blood manors were; mahogany floor, high ceiling, grand staircase, and of course, and giant, shimmering chandelier in the center to top it off. Although it somewhat resembled the house where he survived his less than ideal childhood, Sirius felt this house was different.

It didn't house a bunch of pure-blood high-society bigots, instead inside its walls resided a rebellious blood traitor, a werewolf, a fiery half blood, and a fugitive of the Dark Lord.

The certainly were an odd bunch. Sirius, the impetuous and arrogant spoiled brat. Reamus, the cool and collected one (who just happened to be a werewolf…), Emmeline, the overly-energetic optimist with a nasty temper, and Mora, the compassionate, devoted friend, while at the same time, the Beast. They were all so different in so many lights. However the gang, with James, Lily, and Peter in addition, clung through Hogwarts together, why would live after graduation be any different?

Despite their differences, and their spats, and their insanity, Sirius knew nothing could tear the group apart. Not blood lineages, not adulthood, and not this war. Sirius knew life was about to get a lot more complicated, with starting at new jobs as well as enlisting in the Order. The safety nets at childhood were gone.

Sirius sighed gleefully as Reamus, Mora, and Emmeline shuffled through the doorway in awe, once again with luggage in tow. Emmeline dropped her box instantly as she stepped inside her new home, and in shock shouted out, "Merlin's left b-"

"Language, Em!" Reamus reprimanded playfully, his eyes gazing around in wonder about the entrance hall.

"Well?" Sirius said, turning to face his friends. "What do you think?"

"I think my heart stopped," Mora said, completely entranced.

"You like?" Sirius smiled at the brunette of his dreams.

"It's amazing!" Emmeline exclaimed. "And gorgeous! And! And I get to live here!"

"_We_ get to live here," Reamus added. "Incredible."

"Well, one thing to do now," Mora said as she placed her box atop of Emmeline's on the floor. With a mischievous grin, Mora bolted up the staircase. "I call the biggest bedroom!" she called down to the others.

"I don't think so!" Sirius laughed as he chased after Mora.

"No fair!" Emmeline shouted as she ran behind, dragging Reamus behind her.

"I have a feeling this is going to be a crazy house," Reamus thought aloud as Emmeline pulled him away.

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Mora bit her lip even harder, the pressure on it causing her to wince slightly. The butterflies in her stomach nagged at her confidence all day, and now they had completely undermined it. 

Mora could hardly remember the last time she had been so nervous. A few drops of sweat beaded at her forehead, yet she swatted them away with the palm of her hand. It wasn't as if Mora was about to do anything dangerous. She wasn't about to jump off a building. She wasn't attempting to ride a dragon or polka with giants or cuddle with dementors. She wasn't marching off into battle, about to face the violence that ripped apart her world. She was doing nothing of the sort. So what reason did Mora have for being so afraid?

She had, after all, faced much more daunting tasks. For one thing, she survived the massacre of her entire family. She watched as the last Carteas were picked off. She was living a lie, masked in secrecy and conspiracy to simply keep her alive. If her identity were ever to be discovered, she would find herself in absolute peril. She had escaped an encounter with a basilisk as well as a werewolf. Mora had been faced with life and death situations on what seemed like a daily basis. What made this different?

"Mora, you'll start to bleed!" Lily pointed out as she shook Mora out of her daze, catching notice of Mora's lip. They sat together at a two-person desk, surrounded in a room full of buzzing people at similar desks.

Mora released her bottom lip instantly. "Right, sorry," she said awkwardly.

"Nervous?" Lily asked.

Mora rubbed the side of her face gingerly, forcing a smile to ease the redhead. "Me? Nervous? Nah."

Of course - as the butterflies raging in Mora' stomach would exemplify - this was a blatant lie. After all the horrors she faced, Mora found herself dreading the next six hours more than she ever dreaded anything in her lifetime.

And what for?

"Good morning," the healer greeted as he strode into the room, silencing the anxious chatter of the interns as he assumed his place at the front of the classroom. He was balding, making his remaining black hair resemble a bird's nest atop his head. "Welcome to your first day of training."

Mora gave in to her urge, her teeth sinking back into her bottom lip. Lily had already pulled out a stack of parchment from her bag, maintaining her crazed note-taking strategy as she recorded practically every word the healer said.

"I am Healer Gipps, your instructor," the Healer stated, his tone professional and his eyes dull. "For the next three months, I will instruct you in your training, which will involve lessons, lectures, and laboratory activities. Then those who complete the training will be accepted into the active internship positions here at Saint Mungo's. And I warn you, this training period will be the most work you have ever done."

_Great_, Mora groaned inwardly. _The second I get out of school, __**then**__ they start piling the work on._

The door creaked open, and a much friendlier face emerged. The man wore blue healer's robes, similar to Gipps', except his did not seem daunting against his taut frame. His bright brown eyes seemed to melt straight through Mora. With his long, flaming red hair pulled back from his freckled face, the man smiled as he came to Gipps' side.

"Sorry about that," the man apologized to Gipps, his voice like velvet.

Gipps turned his attention back to the prospective interns. "This is Adam Prewett, Healer here at Saint Mungos, named most promising physician last year by the hospital's board of governors. One of our best..."

"Thank you, sir," Adam said.

Mora noted Adam's usage of the word _sir_. Not only was this man undeniably handsome, and evidently young, he was an accomplished healer, and also talented with the gift of proper arse-kissing. Addressing Gipps as an elder certainly proved to be in Adam's favor, as Gipps let slip what seemed to be the start of smile.

"Healer Prewett will be assisting with some of our sessions," Gipps explained. "Let you all catch a glimpse of what you may one day become. That is, if you prove to be _adequate_."

Mora felt her heart jump at the final word.

"Usually prospective interns start dropping out after the first lesson. Eventually half of my class disappears," he warned. He waved his finger across the room, his point landing on random people in the training session. "Who will it be?"

Mora gulped. "I miss Slughorn already…" she muttered to Lily.

"Very well," Healer Gipps continued. "Let's begin."

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"Bad day?" Sirius asked gently as Mora trudged into the living room of their home. She slumped down on the sofa besides him and sighed deeply as she sunk into the plush leather. He felt a sudden wave of electricity as she sat close to him.

Mora clenched her eyes shut, sighing through the muggy July air. "Long day."

"I'm guessing training's just as rigid as ever," Sirius deducted as Mora opened her eyes.

"With that slave driver Gipps in charge, it's bloody torture," Mora said, "Of course Lily's praising the ground the man walks on. She's convinced he's Merlin's gift to healing."

"And you don't?" Sirius asked, not skeptically, but simply intrigued.

Mora shook her head once. "Well, true, he's a decent Healer, and he's been at the ruddy hospital for decades. But, I dunno, I guess his methods are a bit to narrow-minded for my blood."

"Meaning?"

"He only really sees things in black and white, you know? Like if something is remotely different, he writes it off. He doesn't really approve of…creativity."

Sirius raised an eyebrow curiously. "Something tells me _creativity_ in the medical field is a wee bit dangerous."

Mora smiled. "A wee. But only if you don't know what you're doing. Like, if you can't tell the difference between dragon pox and a Bulgarian ghoul bite, you're hopeless…."

_Merlin, I love her_… Sirius' thoughts trailed, as the often did whenever he found himself in the same room as Mora Ashford. Mora always found a way to stay true to whatever she was passionate about. When she set her mind onto something, nothing could make her waver. Not even a stickler like this Gipps character could shake Mora's opinions of healing methods.

"Well, if it's any consolation to you," Sirius started, "I'm stuck in Auror training with Mad-Eyed Moody. I swear if I hear the words _constant vigilance_ one more time…"

"At least you're actually learning something," Mora argued. "Not to mention you'll need that once we go full-fledged for the Order in the fall."

"C'mon, you've only got another month of this training from hell," Sirius encouraged, "You'll get through it."

Mora groaned, slinking further into the couch. "Whaaa…what did I say?" Sirius asked.

"One month before I can actually start helping people," she grumbled, before her attitude shifted towards a more pleasant light. "that's also a month before Lily and James' wedding. Ready for it Mister Best-Man?"

"Ehhhh," he said. "I'll put it together in time for the wedding. Besides, what do I have to do? A speech: phst, easy. And a bachelor party. But James already told me there was absolutely no way we could do _that_."

"Rather smart of him," Mora chuckled, "He knows Lily would rip him into shreds."

"Actually," Sirius explained, "Lily told James it was alright."

"You've got to be kidding! _The_ Lily Evans was willing to give James one last night of debauchery?"

"That she was," Sirius answered. "But no, James refused. Said she was more important to him that one last random shag."

"Awww," Mora chorused, "I love James. He's so good to her." She rested her head on Sirius' shoulder.

"C'mon, I promise when we get married," he joked, causing Mora to burst out into a laugh, "There won't be any strippers at my bachelor party."

"Good," Mora giggled, "You boys can knit and bake cookies. That's exciting enough for you, right?"

"Absolutely," Sirius added. Although the two laughed about it that night on the couch, the image of Sirius and Mora walking down the alter together as soon to be man and wife, Mora never knew at that moment how desperately Sirius clung to that dream. The hope that one day he and Mora would be together.


	42. Everything You Want

42. Everything You Want

From outside of the dressing room, it seemed like a beautiful, September morning. A warm breeze reminiscent of summer bustled through the trees, wafting a light, cheery mood into the church. Dozens of people chattered inside the church, adorned in formal, crisp dress robes and bright, elegant dresses. White, yellow, and red flowers blanketed the church, giving the inner chapel full of gregarious guests a final, romantic touch.

Yet despite this enchanting atmosphere on the outside, inside the two separate dressing rooms provided for the bridal parties of the church panic, doubt, and disquiet ensued.

James and Mora stood before the long, full length mirror, their reflections only adding to James' trepidation. James thought Mora looked absolutely stunning. The golden dress hugged Mora's curves perfectly, and her brown curls fell down her back, leaving about an inch of bare skin before the back of the dress began.

Yet when James looked at his own reflection, he did not know what to think. His hair was neatly combed, contrastingly greatly with his usual mop of raven hair shooting in all directions. His fancy dress robes seemed foreign on him. He looked too elegant, too pompous to be James Potter. James felt as though he was staring back at some stranger. Something James did not recognize.

A groomed, respectable adult.

"OUCH!" James cried out. "Could you be a bit less aggressive with that thing?"

Mora sighed disapprovingly, putting one hand on her hip, and holding out the small, white rose in the other. "Well, if you'd hold still, maybe I'd be able to pin the ruddy thing on you!"

"Sorry, okay?" James answered sheepishly, "I'm just a bit jumpy, is all."

That, of course, was a bit of an understatement. James hadn't eaten anything all day, for fear his sudden nausea may turn to something a bit nastier. His hands shook by his sides when his thoughts drifted off to "I do's," and, his worst fear, hearing an "I don't." His tongue stuck dry to the roof of his mouth. Fear swelled behind his usually aloof hazel eyes.

Mora smiled, and again took up the lapel of James' dress robes in her hand. "Nerves?"

"Well, sort of, I guess," James pondered as Mora continued to struggle with his boutonnière. "It's just, I fancied Lily for, forever practically. She loathed me for six years. What if she doesn't have the same feelings that I have?"

Mora looked up from James' lapel, compassion swelling in her eyes. "James, how can you say that?"

"I've always gotten everything I asked for, since I was a kid. Money, fancy brooms - you name it, it was handed to me on a silver platter. But Lily was the only thing I ever truly wanted," James said. "What if it's not the same for her? What if she's...settling?"

"James Potter," Mora started, resting her hands on her friend's shoulders. "Lily loves you, more than she loves anything and anyone in this world. If she's _settling_ for anything, it's for the man of her dreams."

"You think so?"

"Lemme put it this way," Mora grinned, turning back to her battle with the boutonnière. "If Lily really just wanted to settle for someone, he would be way more attractive, and maybe have a few extra million galleons."

"Just like the man you're going to marry, right Mora?" James teased.

"Exactly," she affirmed just as she fastened the rose onto James' robe.

The door to the dressing room creaked open as James, Peter, and Reamus hurried in, all adorned in matching dress robes. "Now don't you all look..." Mora started.

"Stunning?" Reamus supplemented.

"Old?" Peter guessed, squirming uncomfortably in his attire.

"I was going to go with _clean_," Mora said.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Sirius smiled, slicking back his hair.

"Anyway, you're needed at bride-maids central, Mora," Reamus said, "Lil said we're going to start soon."

"Alright, see you boys at the alter," Mora saluted before turning to James. "I'm really proud of you, James. Good luck!" As the two embraced, James felt a momentary peace, as if the ceremony mere minutes away wasn't as daunting.

As the parted from the embrace, James said, "Where would I be without you, Mora?"

"Disheveled and boutonnière-less," Mora chortled before slipping out of the room, leaving James with his groomsmen.

"Well," Peter beamed as he came to James' side, staring at themselves in the mirror. "You ready?"

James felt his throat close up. Was he ready? Ready to sell his freedom away? Ready to take this giant leap? To devote his life to Lily and only to Lily? To cherish and keep, to have and to hold, until death part them both?

_No_, James' gut lurched. _No, I'm not ready..._

_Yes I am_! James countered. _I love Lily, I want to be with her, forever and ever and ever and -_

"We're all here for you, mate," Sirius said, standing on James' other side, placing a hand on his shoulder. James tried to smile at his best man, yet the only thing James could force upon his face was an unintentional scowl.

"It's okay to be nervous," Reamus reasoned, trying to calm away the horrified look plastered over James' face.

"What if it's not right?" James speed out.

"Prongs, what's the first thing you think about when you wake up in the morning?" Reamus asked.

_Lily_, James answered instantly to himself.

"And the thing you think about before you go to bed?" Reamus added, an all-knowing gleam in his eyes.

"My everything," James said. And with that, a much needed dose of confidence blasted over him. "Lily."

He was ready.

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The girls gasped in amazement as Lily stepped out from behind the curtain, revealing her wedding dress to her bridesmaids for the first time. "Well?" Lily asked, excitement coursing through her voice. "What do you think?"

"Merlin, Lily..." Emmeline choked out. She sniffled out loudly, holding in a fresh batch of tears.

"Gorgeous, Lil," Mora admired, "Absolutely gorgeous!"

Lily let out a high, thrilled giggle as she turned to face the mirror. "Really?" she squeaked as she marveled in her reflection.

Lily was in no way, shape, or form a conceited person. But now even she couldn't deny it - Lily Evans looked spectacular. Her fiery red hair was styled half up-half down, with perfect curls reaching past her shoulder blades, her veil pulled back to reveal her face. Her white gown was off the shoulder, and towards the bottom began to pouf out slightly. Lily felt like a princess, about to run off into the sunset with her prince.

Lily turned her back on the mirror, spotting the tears caught in her maid-of-honor's eyes. "Geez Em, you're going to make start!" she said as she tightly embraced her best friend.

The door to the dressing room clicked open, as the third and final bridesmaid walked in. She was petite with porcelain skin and vibrant hazel eyes. "Sorry about that," Marlene McKinnon, James' first cousin and childhood friend, apologized as she joined the girls. "The minister says we're ready to start."

Lily beamed brightly as she and Emmeline parted. "Show time!" she squealed. Unable to contain herself any longer, she threw her arms in the air, shouting "I'm about to be Missus James Potter!"

"Yeah you are," Mora giggled.

"James is so lucky to have you," Marlene congratulated.

"Lucky? He hit the bloody jackpot!" Emmeline teased, causing Lily's grin to grow even wider.

"I just hope you can keep the boy in line," Marlene said, fixing a stray strand of her midnight black hair that decided to go limp in her face.

"Oh trust me," Mora said, "She's got Potter whipped."

A knock thumped on the door, disrupting the girls' glee. Sirius shoved his head into the doorway, announcing, "It's time, girls!"

Lily took a deep breath in as a sudden case of butterflies bustled in her stomach. She could feel her pulse racing, her heart pounding faster and faster. _This is it..._

"Here we go," Marlene said.

"I'll be out in a second," Lily advised, smiling as Emmeline squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I just need a minute alone."

"Sure, of course," Emmeline said.

Before the girls departed, they crowded around Lily, giving the bride-to-be one last, group hug.

"We love you, Lil," Mora said, feeling her own blue eyes begin to water. "Bloody hell, now I'm crying!"

"Not you too!" Lily scolded playfully as the girls parted.

The bridesmaids exited the dressing room, and as the door finally shut, Lily heaved a deep breath, trying to rid herself of the anxiety and tension building up in her chest. Slowly Lily revolved again towards the mirror. Gingerly she placed a hand on her stomach, calming her dangerously faced breathing.

_This is it_, Lily thought again, staring at the reflection of her own, emerald green eyes. _This is it._

Yet there was something wrong, something that kept Lily's spirits numbed, her excitement quelled. It resided in the pit of her stomach, churning a new sorrow.

It had nothing to do with James. No - she loved him with all of her heart. She wanted to share her life with him, to give her everything she had. She was ready for their happy ending. The thought of James at the front of the church as Lily was to ascend up the aisle was a comfort to her. She knew as she preparing to take this plunge, James was there next to her, to hold her hand and to help her through it. He was her rock, her anchor. He was her joy, her sorrow, her triumphant, her soul-mate. He was her everything.

But there was still something missing. Something changed Lily's dream of her wedding day that she had since she was a child. It wasn't the dress, nor the church, nor the flowers. It was something much bigger, something she had often taken for granted over the past years, something she refused to give up on.

Her sister.

Petunia Evans, soon to be Dursley, was absent from the ceremony. Of course, Lily invited her sister without second thought. She loved her sister, her Tuni, so dearly. And desperately Lily clung to the hope Petunia's RSVP card would return, the small box reading "Yes, I will attend," marked with a big, red check. Of course, it did not. Lily checked the mail religiously, desperate to find her Tuni's response letter. And once it came, Lily felt her heart shatter.

Even after numerous phone calls and an attempt to visit her in person, Petunia refused to even speak to Lily. Each call Lily made, Petunia's abrasive fiancé answered, demanding Lily stop contacting them as Petunia would not be attending.

Petunia had finally told her fiancé, a crude muggle Vernon Dursley, about Lily being a witch. She felt compelled to do so at their engagement, and as to be expected, Vernon took it rather badly. His negative reaction only solidified the wall Petunia built between her and her sister over the years.

And now, on her wedding day, Lily stood alone, in her dressing room, her sister miles away. Rejected.

"Lord, Lily, you look..."

Lily spun around, nearly tripping over the trail of her dress as she heard the voice. "Pe-Petunia?" her voice wavered.

"Beautiful," Petunia Evans finished, standing stiffly in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" Lily asked, taking a few steps closer to her sister. Petunia, however did not budge.

"I wanted, I...I-"

But Lily did not need Petunia to say the words. Running at her sister, Lily fell into Petunia's arms, crying from joy.

She came. She may loath magic and wizards, she may never speak to Lily again, be she was there. She _loved_ Lily.

"Thank you," Lily said, clinging onto her sister tightly.

"Good luck," Petunia said as the two parted. "I have to go. Vernon will be back from work soon. If he finds out I came here..."

"Tuni, do you love him?" Lily asked.

Petunia held the back of her neck anxiously. "Yes," she managed to say. "Yes, of course I do."

"Then I wish you two luck," Lily said, "I hope you're happy together."

"We will be," Petunia answered as she turned back to exit out the door. "And Lily," she said, and for the first time in seven years, Lily actually saw Petunia smile at her.

"You look beautiful, Lily."

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"Just breathe, Potter," James mumbled to himself as he stood at the head of the church, "Keep breathing..."

The music began to play from the organ, and all the heads in the congregation turned to the entrance. As the doors at the back of the church swung open, James heard only his heart thumping louder and louder. As the wedding procession began, the bridesmaids and the groomsmen walked down the aisle together, each couple with their arms linked as they beamed towards the James at the altar.

First came Peter, escorting James' cousin, Marlene, up the altar. Peter walked self consciously, his obvious attraction to the bubbly, newly seventh year Ravenclaw keeping him from walking in a straight line. James chuckled lightly to himself as he watched the pair stumbled down the aisle until they reached the front of the church, parted to opposite ends of the altar.

Next came Reamus with Mora, who glided with ease towards the front of the church.

"Can you believe it?" Reamus whispered to Mora as they walked, "James, and Lily, married!"

"They're crazy for each other," Mora smiled. "It just makes them seem so...so..."

"Grown up?" Reamus said.

"Weird, eh?"

As Reamus and Mora parted, moving to their respected sides of the altar, the next pair emerged at the back of the church. The best man and the maid of honor, Sirius and Emmeline, held extremely different expressions. Sirius appeared as if he were about to break into ecstatic shouts, while Emmeline looked like she was dangerously close to bawling, out of happiness, of course.

"I never thought those two would be the first out of us to get hitched," Sirius said to Emmeline during their walk.

"It's just s-so beautif-f-ful," Emmeline stuttered, a few tears sliding down her face.

As the pair reached the alter, Sirius took his place behind James. He squeezed James' shoulder, hissing into his ear "Bet you it takes you less than a year to have your first kid."

"No way am I betting against those odds," James said.

As the music reached the crescendo, a new couple emerged out of the shadows. Lily entered the chapel with gracefully, her muggle father beaming as he lead her down the altar. James thought she was glowing, emitting a sort of white light around her like a halo.

A million different emotions rushed through James. Excitement, fear, anxiety, joy, pride, adoration, and countless others. With each step closer to him Lily took, James felt another pulse of exhilaration hit him. James took three steps forward, meeting Lily and her father in the aisle.

Eugene Evans lifted Lily's veil slightly, giving her one last kiss on the cheek. "I love you, pudding," he whispered in her ear. He now looked to James, handing him her daughter's hand. "Take care of her, son."

James gazed into Lily's emerald eyes. "Forever and ever."

Holding her hand even tighter, James lead Lily up to the altar. The two stood before the minister, fingers intertwined, lost in each other's eyes. James felt as if time had simply stopped. The guests, the bridal party, everyone had disappeared. All that was left was Lily. And that was all James ever needed.

"Dearly beloved," the minister began, "We gather here today to witness the holy union of James Matthew Potter and Lily Marie Evans..."


	43. A Drunken Impulse

43. A Drunken Impulse

"Just a few more steps," Sirius said, his words meshing together, courtesy of a few strong firewhiskies. He pushed open the door to their home and stepped over the threshold, supporting the disheveled healer on his shoulder.

"Sirius you can put me down now," Mora insisted, her voice lofty and varying in pitch. "Seriously, Sirius, I'm fine." Mora began to giggle infectiously, "Serious-Sirius, it's the same word!"

Sirius flicked the lights on, keeping his grip on Mora steady. Even in his slightly inebriated state, Sirius' protective streak kicked in to full gear. He was one of the lucky few who were able to hold his alcohol quite well, someone who after four or five or nine glasses of firewhiskey could still function on a somewhat-rational level. Mora, however, was clearly not one of these people. With one glass, Mora seemed like her ordinary, sober self. But after the second and the third, it was evident the drink had gotten to her. Her blue eyes held a certain, lifeless glaze, and her giggling could not be silenced.

_Well_, Sirius thought to himself, _Better a happy drunk than a weepy drunk_.

It was obvious before tonight Mora hadn't touched a drop of anything that wasn't a harmless butter bear. Not even at James and Lily's wedding had Mora drank. But tonight, in celebration of Reamus' promotion at ACE, he had taken the gang out to the pub to celebrate. Thus leading to the transformation of Mora Ashford, promising young healer at St. Mungo's and sweet-heart extraordinaire, to Mora the drunken mess.

"Alright," Sirius said softly as the touched reached the living room. He set her down gently upon the sofa, Mora giggling under her breath. "You okay?"

"I'm thirsty," she slurred, her staring absentmindedly up at the ceiling.

"Right, thirsty," Sirius repeated to himself, "Let me get you some water." He disappeared into the kitchen, soon returning with a glass. He offered it to her, but instead of taking it in her hand, a wide, goofy smile spread across her face.

"Noooo," she giggled, "I'm not thirsty for _that_..." Her eyes trailed off towards the kitchen, where she knew a bottle of something or other sat on the counter.

"No way," Sirius said firmly as he sat beside her.

"But -"

"Not buts," Sirius countered as Mora broke into another fit of hysteria.

"You said _butt_," she managed to squeeze out through her laughter. "_Butt_!"

"I think we ought to get you to bed."

Mora pouted her lips. "Sirius Black, I am not a child," she protested. "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," Sirius said, playing along with the drunken Mora's antics. He turned and placed the unwanted glass of water on the table beside to sofa. But when he faced Mora once again, he got something he certainly did not expect.

Leaning over the sofa, Mora pushed herself against Sirius. Before giving him the chance to react, or even process the situation, Mora kissed him.

Sirius couldn't move. He couldn't think, he couldn't even react. Never in a million years had he anticipated _this_. Surely, he had envisioned numerous incidents in which her were to kiss Mora for the first time, imagined every last detail of it. The way she would look, how her eyes would sparkle in the light, whether it be moonlight or sunlight or firelight, what romantic or witty or charming thing he might say, where they would be, how brilliant it would feel. But none of them resembled this odd occurrence in the least.

Firstly, Sirius never dreamed of Mora initiating this kiss, seeing as though his silent adoration of her seemed to go unreciprocated for months. What did this mean? Could Mora have feelings for him, love him in the same way as he loved her?

Before he even realized it, Sirius found himself kissing Mora back, with the same intensity as she had. The buzzing in his mind softened as their lips crashed together, and Sirius was lost. He had forgotten the others back at the pub still celebrating with Reamus, he forgot his immense confusion, but worst of all, he forgot the prevailing factor that spurred the kiss. He forgot that Mora was totally and completely piss drunk.

And the moment this realization hit Sirius once again, his eyes snapped open. This was all wrong. In all his scenarios of possibly professing his feelings to Mora, she had been her normal, rational self. Not the giggling, inebriated blonde before him. She didn't know what she was doing. This wasn't something out of Sirius' fantasies; this was the rash impulse of a girl accountable of her actions.

Sirius pulled away from Mora, leaving her dangling across the sofa in her awkward, drunken position. His feelings of embarrassment and dejection began to transform once again. As he became more aware of the situation around him, a startling fact struck Sirius. He remembered it, that one night months ago, and instantly he felt ashamed. Here he was, snogging an innocent girl who was completely smashed. Even though she kissed him first, Mora certainly didn't know what was going on. She didn't realize she was kissing her room-mate, and that he was kissing her back full force. This would definitely be a regret-in-the-morning situation.

Sirius was taking advantage of Mora. Sheer joy blinded him at first, but now he could see the painful, alcohol-induced truth staring back at him.

Sirius' shame did not stem from the fact that Mora was drunk. While this did factor into his guilt, a much bigger memory fueled his sudden ignominy. It was how when he, Sirius Black, who dared call himself a true friend of Mora, could do something as vile as this. Sirius was taking advantage of Mora, and a few short months ago he had been silently vowing to destroy Colton Bayard for doing the same thing. True, the two acts were not exactly on the same level, Sirius merely kissing Mora while Colton had tried to rape her. But to Sirius it made no difference.

Sirius felt sick. How could he be so selfish? To jump at the opportunity to snog Mora, even if it took getting her piss drunk. Sure, they were just kissing, but if Sirius had let it go on, who knows how far it might have gotten. To him, the acts were one in the same. To be attacked by and enemy or to be taken advantage of by a friend were equally vile. The Imperius Curse and a few glasses of firewhiskey were both agents of the deception, and in both circumstances, Mora was powerless to the situations surrounding her.

It had been months ago, and since then it appeared Mora had put that night in the Trophy Room long behind her. But Sirius knew better. He knew it was still lurking in the back of her mind. He remembered the end of seventh year, how she numbed herself for weeks on end. He remembered getting the Daily Prophet once over the summer, only to see Mora to stumble across the surname _Bayard_ in the business section. He remembered the silence that filled the room, how the sunny, cheery kitchen that Friday morning turned suddenly cold. He could still see the memories flicked behind her blue eyes. What if Mora looked back on this same night with that same horror, what if these events continued to chip away at her until there was nothing left?

Overcome with shame, Sirius bound up from the sofa, leaving Mora to topple slightly, her head hanging off the side of the couch. "I..." Sirius choked as a wave of remorse took hold of him. "I shouldn't, I didn't mean, I, I-"

But his frantic laments were overshadowed by a great heaving sound as the firewhiskey finally took his full toll upon Mora.

_And the only thing worse than a weepy drunk is a sick drunk_...

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"Look who's up!" the cheery voice of Emmeline pierced through Mora's fogginess.

The moment she opened her eyes, a familiar, blinding pain throbbed through her head. Groaning, Mora grabbed her forehead and clenched her eyes shut, shielding herself from the gleaming sunshine filling her bedroom. "What happened?" Mora mumbled.

"You got piss drunk and managed to get James into bed with you."

Mora's eyes flashed open. "WHAT?"

Emmeline giggled slightly from her spot on the foot of Mora's bed. "Got you!"

"Merlin, Em," Mora grumbled as she sat up. "You just have me a bloody heart attack…"

"Well, someone had to wake you up," Emmeline smiled. "Besides, I couldn't help but miss the sight of sweet, innocent Mora enjoying her fist hang-over." She brushed a mock-tear out from her eye, "My baby's all grown up…"

"So _that's_ what this is," Mora groaned, grasping her head again. "Bloody hell, why do you people drink if _this_ is what you have to deal with the next morning?"

"Cause anything's worth the cost of one sweaty, drunken night," Emmeline answered in a matter-of-fact manner. "Even though we can hold our firewhiskey a bit better than you. Bloody hell, Mora! Three drinks and you're out?"

"I know, I know," Mora sighed, "I'm a dork, okay? Anyways, what _did_ happen last night? Hopefully it doesn't involve a bed or James or whoever…"

"Not that I know of," Emmeline said, "All I know is Sirius had to haul you out of the pub and brought you back here. What do you remember?"

"Good question…." Mora said as she racked her brain for the events of the previous evening. "I don't remember leaving the pub…I remember being here, in the living room…"

Mora's expression suddenly dropped. "Oh bullock…."

"What? What happened?" Emmeline asked, her joyous expression now replaced with concern.

"How could I be so stupid?" Mora mumbled on.

"What did you do?"

Mora covered her face with her hands and quickly she rushed out a muffled explanation that sounded something like "Iisssederiusack."

"Couldn't really catch that…"

"I_isssed_eriuslack…" Mora repeated, this time a bit louder as embarrassment coursed through her.

"And in English that would mean…?"

Mora dropped her hands quickly before practically screaming out: "I KISSED SIRIUS BLACK!"

Emmeline squealed out of shock. "You didn't!"

Mora nodded, her face burning a vibrant shade of crimson. "I remember now. Oh, Emmy! I threw myself all over him!"

"Is that all? Did you just kiss, or did you…"

"No, that was it," Mora said, but her reassurance quickly faded into another bout of humiliation. "Because I threw up all over the place!"

"Merlin, you are _never_ drinking again," Emmeline commented as Mora let out another sigh. "But still, that's a good thing, right?" Emmeline said, trying to bring out the silver lining. "That means nothing else happened, you just snogged the hell out of him before blowing chunks..."

"Not helping…" Mora grumbled. "How could I let this happen?"

"Mora, you didn't _let_ this happen," Emmeline reassured. "It's not like you walked into that pub thinking _'I ought to get piss drunk so I end up nearly shagging my best mate.'_ I mean, it's not like you fancy Sirius or anything…"

Of course Mora didn't fancy him!

This was Sirius Black, _the_ Sirius Black. The boy changed girl friends as often as he changed his shirt; he was a shallow, impetuous, lady's man. And the girls Sirius tended to bring home were nothing like Mora. Tall, gorgeous, with an IQ lower than that of a tooth pick. They swooned when a guy like Sirius walked into a room, and each of them clearly fell into a 'damsel in distress' category, much unlike herself, Mora the Beast. Each one of them was blinded by Sirius, his charm, his dashing good looks, his Gryffindor chivalry and anything else girls found so desirable about him. And Sirius kicked each and every girl to the curb, whether he just grew tired of them, Mora did not know.

No, Mora certainly wasn't like those girls. She was not some two-bit, hooched-up harlot. She wasn't easily blinded by false promises or the thrill of the moment. She wasn't one for starry-eyed romantics or vows of true love. She had been through that before, and where did she end up? In hiding, fearing for her life, betrayed, utterly heartbroken, and a slew of other nasty effects.

_Of course, that was because I fashioned a first boyfriend out of a homicidal -_

The very thought of Tom still took its toll on Mora. It had been nearly a year since she last saw him, yet still the echo of his name in her mind did something to Mora. He had been her first love - her only love. And yet it went so horribly wrong. Of course the thought of fancying anyone after such a disaster was not appealing to Mora.

_No! This isn't about him,_ Mora scolded. _This is about Sirius. Only Sirius…_

There was no way Mora could possibly harbor feelings for him. After all, they lived together. Some silent crush would definitely make their living situation a bit more difficult, in that meaning in would become unbearable. How would anyone be able to stand that? To obsess over someone sleeping in the next room, to break a little bit inside as each day passed living with the object of their affection? What kind of life was that?

No, Mora did not fancy Sirius. She was sure of it. She didn't feel giddy when he walked into the room. She didn't go out of her way to look extra special just for him. She didn't feel something bubble up inside her when they spoke. She didn't melt when his grey eyes caught sight of her. She didn't feel any jealousy for those tramps he brought home, she didn't wish it were her instead of them who captured his attention, even if it were only for a brief while.

No, she didn't fancy Sirius Black, not in the slightest. Right?

"I do…"

"What was that?" Emmeline asked as Mora buried her face in her palms, her brown, untamed curls cascading over her hands.

Mora gulped. "I fancy Sirius Black. Bloody hell…"

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Anticipation fluttered in Mora's stomach as she ascended into the living room. Her breaths had turned short and crisp as the occupants of the room came into sight. Emmeline clutched to Mora's hand, and from her excitement she squeezed so hard Mora expected it to turn blue.

It had taken two months. Two months of training, two months of drills from the tyrannical Dorcas Meadows and Alastor Moody, two months of preparation for this very day. The summer faded away quickly as their training progressed, and the tumultuous winds of autumn had taken its place. And finally it was here. Mora knew this day would come, but as she took a place besides Reamus and Emmeline amongst the crow in their living room, she felt suddenly unsure. It had come. The day they would be called into action.

The day the newest recruits of the Order were ordered to the front lines.

Their first battle was drawing, Mora sensed. The room seemed packed to Mora, seeing that the largest amount of it had housed in the past had just been the seven Gryffindors. And now, in addition to the seven friends, stood an array of Order members, new and old. McGonagall, Kingsley Shackelbott, and an older man with gray hair sticking out of a tattered, purple had occupied the main sofa, while on the smaller sofa opposite sat Dorcas Meadows as well as Ewen McKinnon, whom Mora recognized from James and Lily's wedding as James' uncle.

Standing behind the largest sofa already stood James and Lily, hands interlocked as James whispered something reassuring into Lily's ear. Beside them were the former seventh years Catrina Meadows, Doc Dearborn, and Rebecca Fenwick, all of which true to their vow from that night in Dumbledore's office. Sirius and Peter were at the end of the group, mirroring each other's expressions. While Sirius appeared nonchalant and careless as can be, Mora feared Peter may pass out at any moment.

At the head of the room stood Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody. Dumbledore cleared his throat, and the room fell silent instantly.

"It's so nice so nice to see so much of the team, together at last," Dumbledore greeted. "New, old, young, all one Order."

"Now on to the business of this meeting," Dumbledore continued. His eyes inside his half-moon spectacles turned to the gaggle of new recruits. "We have a task for you."


	44. Game Time

44. Game Time

"Almost ready…" Sirius called as he pulled on the finishing touches to his costume.

"Well hurry up then," Mora laughed from the opposite side of the door, "Some of us need to get ready to you know!"

"If I do recall," Sirius started, his voice from the bathroom carrying its usual, sly tone, "You do have your own room to change in. And your own bathroom for that matter."

"Well, aren't you a right Sherlock Holms," Mora quipped, yet her comment was futile, seeing Sirius wasn't exactly well read when it came to muggle classics. "And you seem to forget, Mister Black, that this happens to be the bathroom with the big mirror."

"Then step on in," Sirius said, "I don't mind sharing."

Sirius could hear Mora snort from the hallway, as she joined in on the joke, "Right, cause that's the way to start off the night; getting naked with Sirius Black."

"You know you like it!" Sirius teased.

"Right, oh baby, oh baby," Mora mocked, her voice dry and monotone.

Sirius smiled, his glee apparent in his reflection in the big, treasured mirror staring back at him. It had been a month since that gauche, humiliating night. Sirius had feared that night that that one misplaced drunken kiss may hinder their friendship. And for once in his life, Sirius was glad to find himself wrong. The two awkwardly stumbled around each other for a few days after that fire-whiskey-induced evening, but quickly they forgot the incident. From the outside, everything between Sirius and Mora seemed perfectly normal; two friends with nothing between them.

But Sirius had not forgotten that night. How he felt for that slightest moment, before he realized the despicability of the kiss. When he believed it to be real, Sirius felt like he was on fire. Every inch of him was truly alive, as if for the first time. Still, he carried the same shame from enjoying a moment taken out of Mora's drunken weakness, yet his love for her had only grown stronger. Sirius would not forget that night in the living room for a long time.

And unbeknownst to him, neither would Mora.

"Alright, alright! I'm coming out!" Sirius announced.

"I'll alert the media…" Mora said.

Sirius pushed open the door, leaping out from the bathroom with his arms outstretched in the air. "TA-DA!" he proclaimed.

"And," Mora said, a giggle forming in the back of her throat, "You are….?"

Sirius blushed slightly beneath his mask. He didn't expect any of his roommates to understand his costume. Hell, _he_ didn't even understand it. But Lily insisted it was a popular thing among the muggles, and the entire point of this assignment was to be incognito, so, like the good little solider he was, Sirius just went with it.

"A Beatle."

"Really," Mora examined, "And where exactly are your wings and feelers and such?"

"Not that kind of beetle," Sirius explained, "It's a muggle band! The Beatles!"

Mora sighed, placing a hand on her hip. Apparently literature, not popular music, was the only thing Mora understood in both the muggle and wizarding worlds. "Alright, this," Sirius said, pointing to the mask that completely enveloped his face. "Is John Lennon, member of said Beatles."

"And, the shirt...?"

Sirius looked down at his t-shirt, a simple design of a yellow submarine against a bland, white background. "It's one of their songs, _Yellow Submarine_..."

"Now, if you had put a Weird Sister's shirt on, then I would'ave gotten it," Mora said as she stepped into the bathroom, softly shutting the door behind her. "But this still isn't ringing any bells."

"Well, hopefully the kids'll get it," Sirius sighed.

"If this band is as popular as you say, you'll have the locals in stitches," Mora said.

In a few moments, and after a sequence of shuffling noises, Mora prodded at the door, and slowly it swung upon, revealing a sight that made Sirius's jaw drop. It almost looked like a glow surrounding Mora as she stepped into the plush hallway. Her white, glittering dress hugged to her frame beautifully, with small spaghetti straps and stopping two or so inches above her knees. A pair of white wings sparkled upon her back, and a small mask over her eyes added the final touch to the costume.

"Well?" Mora asked unsurely. "I know, it's kind of... and maybe it's too -"

"It's perfect."

Mora brushed a strand of hair behind her ear gently. "Really?"

"You look beautiful, Mora," Sirius beamed.

At that moment, Sirius felt himself swept into that same, whirlwind of emotions. He wanted to sweep her up, right there in that hallway, and kiss her like he had that night. He wanted to hold her, to tell her again and again how beautiful she looked. All he needed to do was take one step to close the gap between them. Yet Sirius knew he would never take that initiative. Despite his longing, Sirius was far too afraid to ever make such a move. He, Sirius Black, found himself timid in the presence of a girl.

_Wouldn't those Slytherins just eat that up_...

"We're moving out guys!" Emmeline screeched from the first floor of the house, shattering Sirius' thoughts.

"Well," Sirius smiled beneath his mask, holding out his arm for Mora. "Shall we, milady?"

"A beetle and a fairy," Mora smiled as she took put her arm in his. "Quite the couple..."

The pair glided down the grand staircase, meeting with the rest of their party in the foyer. Reamus, Lily, Doc, and Catrina, all decked out in appropriate costumes - and masks -, awaited orders from their superior.

"Let's go over this one more time boys and girls," Moody gruffed to the youngsters.

_The plan, right_… Sirius thought to himself. It was time to get serious. He needed to push thoughts of Mora out of his mind, for tonight at least.

The plan was simple enough. Voldemort decided the time had come to see what his newest Death Eaters were made of. On this very evening a local secondary school would be hosting their annual Halloween dance, at which dance the Death Eaters were to try out their skills. Efforts by the Order to somehow cancel the dance failed, and the massacre seemed inevitable. The Order's only chance of stopping the Death Eaters was to fight them off at the dance.

"You are to enter through the main doors will all the muggle kids, use the tickets we 'ave for you here." Moody pulled a wad of paper out from his pocket and pushed it into Reamus' grasp, who stumbled back slightly from Moody's rough push.

"Spread yourselves around the gym, two of yous' near each entrance," Moody continued, "You need to act like all the other kids, so dance and what not, whatever their kind does…The rest of us'll be on the outside to catch the Death Eaters before they can do any damage. And if they manage to get it, well...you know what te do."

Sirius grinned. _Yeah, we know what to do..._ He thought to himself. _Game time_.

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The gymnasium of Saint Elizabeth's Secondary School was in full-blown chaos.

Darkness pervaded the room, only the dim haze of colored lights outlining figures and shapes. Each inch of the gym was packed, kids piled on kids, all moving to the rhythm of their own frenetic will. There was no escaping them, there wasn't room to breathe. There wasn't room to think. All they could do was dance. The music pulsated through the air, and Mora could feel its beat hammer from the DJ, through the floor and into her very being.

Mora had never been to such a dance. The only one she had ever attended was nothing like this. It had been calm, composed, a semi-formal evening a seemingly harmless, wholesome fun. The music had been soft, slow, with no hint of panic nor angst hidden beneath the strings and piano parts. Here, the music was rough and raw, the bass line rocked Mora to her very core. Then dresses there were long, elegant, and conservative. Here, the costumes were so short Mora was thankful it was dark in that gymnasium.

Then again, then it was nineteen forty-four, and now here she was, caught up in the last few months of the nineteen seventies.

Swept up in the madness, Mora forgot everything. She forgot the impending danger, that Death Eaters may barge in at any moment and slaughter every muggle there. She forgot the looming threats, the severity of that evening, the idea that any minute now she would be thrown head first into battle. She forgot about the wand hidden safely in a garter around her leg beneath her sparkling costume. She forgot everything, and instead, she simply danced.

With hardly any space within the cramped gym, Mora found herself in a situation she had not predicted; glued to Sirius. The two had been paired up from the start of the mission, and positioned at one of the side exits. Mora assumed they were to stick together throughout the dance, yet she hadn't expected what that entailed. She knew they would be dancing, but she didn't realize they would be _dancing_, together.

Well, they sort of had to dance together. Several daring muggle boys had asked Mora to dance, and Mora might have agreed, if it weren't for a fuming Sirius by her side. Mora wasn't at all smothered nor frustrated by Sirius' protective tendency, instead she found it rather adorable. So instead of losing her to an unknown Saint Elizabeth's student, Sirius danced with Mora.

She didn't realize how close they would be, bodies pressing against each other, lost in the sea of wild high-schoolers. She didn't realize how alive she would feel, who every inch of her would feel as if it were on fire. She didn't realize, nor would she, how Sirius felt the same.

And just as Mora began to realize this all, a bang rocketed across the gymnasium, and a blinding light scorched the room. Mora shielded her eyes as others screamed, terrified of this sudden occurrence. When Mora opened her eyes once again, she saw the giant hole blast out from the opposite wall, with masked figures striding inside. She saw hundreds of costumed students, rushing in every direction, trying to escape yet running to no avail in the debilitating darkness. She saw Sirius beside her, his mask ripped off and his wand raised and ready.

Mora reached under her dress and retrieved her wand out of its holster, and under her breath, she growled, "Let's do this."

The two sprung into action. Mora raised her wand in the air, and with a small incantation, flames leapt from her wand, dangling in mid air. "OUT OF THE WAY!" she bellowed as she and Sirius horded the panicked students away from the door. 

"REDUCTO!" Sirius cried, and instantly the two, metal doors were blown off the hinges. "Everybody out! This way!" he directed, screaming at the top of his lungs as Mora flicked her wand, extinguishing the fire.

Students stampeded out this newly created exit as battle raged on in the heart of the gym. Mora longed to jump into the heat of the action, to show these Death Eaters what she was made of, to make them pay for ripping her own family apart. But that was not her job. She was to stay back with Sirius, to see as many muggles got out safely as possible. And to her own resentment, she would stick to her mission.

"What do we have here?" Mora heard a voice hiss in her ear. A hand reached form behind her, clutching her by the neck. The stranger wrenched her backwards, flinging her away. As Mora crashed on top of the punch table, she could hear Sirius in the distance, screaming out for her.

"What's that? Girly doesn't wanna play?" The Death Eater teased as he loomed closer. "C'mon," he taunted, grabbing Mora by the chin and forcing her face towards him. "What fun is a muggle unless it's begging for mercy?"

Using all of her might, Mora threw the Death Eater to the ground. As he tumbled away, she got hold of her wand. "Expeliarmes!" she shouted, casting the Death Eater's wand flying out of his hand. Mora towered above the Death Eater, who was sprawled across the floor. With a snap of the wrist, Mora ripped the Death Eater's mask away, revealing the fearsome face of none other than Tate Avery.

"Muggle, eh Avery?" Mora jeered. "_Incarcerous!_" As Avery was bound by the ropes, Mora left the Slytherin behind. The gymnasium was nearly empty, although to Mora's devastation, the ground was littered with the bodies. Many dead, some injured, wallowing in anguish amidst the battle.

"ASHFORD!"

Mora snapped her head around, only to see Ewen McKinnon, dueling away with two young Death Eaters at once. "Get the rest of those kids out!"

Mora nodded as she sprinted away, until she felt a hand reach her ankle. "Help me! Please!" The girl grasping Mora cried. She was lying on the ground, a gash spreading from her abdomen, leading down to her leg, bloodied and mangled.

"Don't be afraid," Mora beckoned as pointed her wand at the girl. "Mobilicorpus!" The girl's body lifted into the air, and despite Mora's warning, she screamed. Running across the battle field, Mora levitated the girl to safety, landing her safely outside the school.

Mora rushed back inside the gymnasium, only to see another student struggling amidst the pandemonium. He crawled across the floor, using his only free arm to drag him to safety. Mora finally reached the stranger, adorned in a costume one expected to see in a shop; a cloak decorated with stars and moons, and a pointed, black cap atop his head. Dressed as a young wizard, this boy was now being tormented by the real thing. He was young, maybe only twelve years old, distinguishable by the terror and youth etched in his wide eyes. Surely he had snuck into this dance, only to find much more than a taste of teenage rebellion, but stumbled upon a fully raging war.

"Can you stand?" Mora asked as she boy shook his head widely _yes_. "Here," Mora said as she offered the boy her hand. She pulled him to his feet and hugged him close to her. "Whatever happens, stay with me, okay?" The boy shook his head up and down to signify a _yes_, and with her wand outstretched yet again, Mora began to guide the boy to safety. Yet a mere three meters away from freedom, someone stepped before the exit.

He adorned completely in black, with a black mask over his eyes. Mora recognized him to be one of the muggles who had asked her to dance earlier. "Do you need help?" Mora called out as she and the boy drew closer to this stranger. The stranger let out a short laugh, the very sound of it causing a shiver to race through Mora.

Mora pushed the boy behind her, who clung to her dress in terror. The stranger reached into his pocket, and slowly he revealed something Mora certainly had not expected.

A wand.


	45. Bargaining

45. Bargaining

More raised her wand, ready to strike this adversary down, yet he was much quicker than she. "Diffindo!" He bellowed. Mora dodged out of the spell's path, knocking both her and the boy to the ground.

"Stupefy!" Mora retaliated and she jumped to her feet, yet the stranger blocked her attack with ease.

"_Expeliarmes_!" Mora attacked again.

"Protego," The stranger said, sending Mora's disarming charm flailing in the opposite direction. "Relashio!" Sparks charged from the stranger's wand, racing towards Mora with impossible speed. Blinded by the flashes dancing around her head, Mora lost her footing. She toppled to the ground, leaving the boy completely unprotected.

The stranger circled around the boy, who hugged his legs to his chest, a tears trailing down his cheeks. "What do we have for you?" The stranger mused as his wand fixed upon the boy. "_AVADA_-"

"NO!" Mora lunged at the stranger. Before she could reach him, the stranger grabbed the boy by the collar and pulled him back. His wand pressed into the boy's temple as a smirk spread over his face.

"Get out of here," the stranger growled.

"Let him go."

The stranger snorted, now aiming his wand at Mora. "I'm giving you the chance to walk out of this," he started, "And you'd rather stay here and die. For _this_?" He shoved his wand beneath the boy's chin, who shrieked.

"Just give him here," Mora said, reaching out her other arm towards the boy. "Just -"

"You're in no position to be giving orders," The stranger warned. Mora looked down to the boy as he let out a sob and shriveled in the stranger's hold, the wand harder and harder into the boy's flesh.

"Alright, alright...No orders," Mora said, causing the man to loosen his hold on the boy. Without thinking, with the battle raging around her, in the midst of the screams and the chaos, Mora did something stupid.

"How about a trade?"

"You're not suggesting..."

"Me for him," Mora supplied. "Who cares if you kill some muggle kid. Take me, and I promise, you'll get the recognition you want."

The man remained still for several seconds, eyeing Mora with pure curiosity. "What do you care what happens to some filthy little nobody?" His eyes trailed to her wand.

Mora, obliging to the man's gesture, lowered her weapon slowly, until she rested it upon the floor. She straightened back up to face the man. "It's my job."

In one movement, the man lifted his wand from the boy and flung him away. Using his newly freed hand, he grabbed Mora by the wrist, heaving her towards him until the two collided. Wandless, Mora knew she was staring down her death. She prepared for the final blow as his wand rested beneath her chin. "You're a fool, Miss Ashford," the man hissed.

Mora found herself gazing into a pair of honey eyes, eyes she remembered far too well...

"STUPEFY!" Mora heard Reamus cry. A red jet of light raced towards the stranger's head, and instantly the stranger jerked himself and Mora out of it's path. He now had Mora's back pressed against the wall with his wand glued to her. Mora thought this was it. A quick killing curse, and the end would come. Fallen in her first battle. That's what she expected. But she wasn't quite prepared for what she got.

Closing whatever space had remained between them, the man's lips crashed over Mora's. It was short, but the intensity of the kiss was unreciprocated on Mora's part as she simply stood there, stunned by the stranger's rash action.

And in a flash, he was gone.

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"PROTEGO!" Sirius shouted as a killing curse darted towards him. The curse nearly missed its target, and instead claimed a masked Death Eater, who fell to the floor with an empty thud.

"You'll pay for that, Black!" the unmistakable voice of Severus Snape screeched. Sirius spun around as a smirk played across his face.

"Snivellous!" Sirius greeted scornfully. "Nice of you to drop by..."

"_Crucio_!"

Sirius dropped to the ground, leaving the curse to soar overhead. "I'll wipe that smug little smile right off your face..." Snape said as Sirius rose to face him again.

"Petrificous Totalous!" Sirius yelled. Snape leapt out of the charm's path, leaving it to strike the back of an unsuspecting Moody. Mad-Eye toppled to the ground, growling '_You idiot_!' loud enough for the cringing Sirius to hear.

"Reducto," Snape cast, causing Sirius' wand to burst into bits, sending tiny chips of wood flying across the gymnasium. "Not so tough now, are you, Black?"

Leaving Snape no time to utter a single spell, Sirius took the collar of Snape's robe in one hand. Sirius slammed a fist into Snape's nose, who shrieked in surprise. He could hear the bones in Snape's long, crooked nose snap as a trickle of blood sprayed from the spot. Plucking the wand out of Snape's grasp, Sirius left the Death Eater to slump to the ground.

"Nighty-night, Snivellous." A triumphant gleam shone in Sirius' eye as he left Snape behind, ready to move on to a new opponent. The surviving muggles had been safely evacuated, and now all that was left was to clean up the mess of Death Eaters.

Sirius knew the battlefield was truly his niche. He was fast, he was strong, he was ready for this all. Dueling always came naturally to Sirius, and his skills had increased after a summer of grueling auror training. Sirius ripped through Death Eater after Death Eater, emerging with only a few scraps here and there. He was reckless, that was for sure, but so far his sloppy technique, as Moody had put it, hadn't gotten him killed.

To Sirius, every Death Eater he faced was like the last. Devious, conniving scum. It made no difference which face lay behind the skull mask. If they had the dark mark branded upon them, they were the same in Sirius' eyes. It didn't matter that he had grown up with these men and women, watched the mature alongside him over the years. It didn't matter that once they all lived under the same roof, that they once pretended to be untied in Hogwarts, regardless of house. His classmates had chosen their side, and Sirius had chosen his own. If that mean their wands were fated to cross paths, Sirius welcomed it.

His rage in battle was not simply due to his devotion to the cause. True, he would die to rid of the world of this prejudice, to eradicate this army of bigots that plagued the wizarding world with nothing but despair and destruction. Yet that alone did not fuel his vigor.

The truth of the matter was, Sirius attacked Death Eaters with such passion due to his own fear. The fear that when he pulled back the mask of one, he would see his own face. Sirius Black, the Death Eater he might have become if he had followed the path his family had set for him. The path that the Marauders shunned, the one so many Slytherins embraced, like his brother Regulus and his cousins would.

Sirius had been so close to becoming just like _them_. Raised in the affluent pureblood court, it was expected of Sirius to mold into the perfect Black. The Noble House of Black would have no less than perfection, after all. What if Sirius had been sorted into Slytherin? What if he never met the Marauders, and instead fell into the same group as Bayard and Avery? Would Sirius be on the other side of this fight, behind that very mask he feared, brandishing the very mark upon his left wrist he so despised?

"Never," Sirius asserted to himself as three Death Eaters circled around him. Sirius brought his wand to the ready, and with a mischievous grin, he leered, "Come and get me."

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Mora pulled her sweatshirt closer to her body as she tapped the spoon with her wand gently. The spoon began to stir itself, mixing Mora's tea in a large, yellow mug with sunflowers painted on its side. The house had been silent for a few hours as its occupants had all drifted off to bed. Yet Mora lay awake, tossing and turning for what felt like hours on end. The battle drained Mora of her energy, and despite her exhaustion she could not fall asleep. She retreated to the kitchen, finding some enticing quality in the cheery blue tiled floor and the cool stone countertops. The clock on the wall chimed through the silence, marking four distant clangs in the darkness.

Mora sighed as she lifted the steaming tea to her lips, blowing over the liquid in order to cool it. She placed it back on the counter top as the spoon continued in its rhythmic path inside the edges of the cup.

It had ended hours ago, yet in her solitude Mora could still hear the battle ringing in her ears, the screams of the muggles, the roar of the stampede, the names of obscure spells and curses being bellowed form across the gymnasium. She could feel the heat of the room, see the figures as they raced through the darkness, as if she had never even left.

The evening, for the most part, had been successful. Successful as one could be in a war, Mora grimly supposed. Death Eaters managed to beat back Order forces and make there way into the dance, leading to at least a dozen muggle fatalities and numerous injuries, as well as several Order member injuries. Yet when the fray ended, the Order emerged victorious, even taking several Death Eaters prisoner. One of which was Tate Avery, who was now being safely shipped off to Azkaban.

_Let him rot_, Mora thought bitterly, _Hopefully the dementors makes him suffer before they off him._

These thoughts were incredibly harsh for Mora, a girl who hardly exhibited any sign of spiteful or vengeful behavior. True, Mora held Tate's surname and house against him, as well and obviously his allegiance with Voldemort. Yet the thing that merited her pure hatred for the man was what he had done to Lily. She would never forget how he ambushed her, tortured her, and then left her for dead. Mora would never let someone raise a hand against Lily ever again, and she would be damned to see Tate receive anything short of what he deserved.

Mora's thoughts drifted away from Tate again she tested her tea, lifting to mug gingerly to her lips. Taking a sip, Mora sputtered the scalding hot tea out from her mouth. Gagging, Mora wiped her mouth carelessly with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, resting her tea upon the countertop once again.

There was another thing keeping Mora awake that night. It wasn't the battle, nor the adrenaline she could not overcome from earlier, nor her sudden thirst for vengeance. But the image of two, honey eyes staring darkly upon her. Eyes she knew from a lifetime ago, instilled upon another. Eyes that haunted her when she was Mora Cartea, and that followed her here in her new life.

A Bayard's eyes.

"You're up too?" Reamus asked as he strode into the kitchen softly, hands buried in the pockets of his pajama pants.

"What are you doing down here?" Mora questioned, secretly relieved for the company. The one thing she knew that could help her put the chill of the battle behind her was the warmth only Reamus Lupin's presence could supply

"Couldn't sleep," Reamus said, "Surprised anyone really can, it was our first battle and all..."

"How long you think till our next one?" Mora asked as she leaned against the counter and crossed her arms gently across her chest. .

"With the way this war is going, who knows," Reamus mused. "Mora, is everything alright?"

"Course," Mora answered quickly, "Just a bit jumpy is all..."

Reamus' gaze narrowed. "Mora," he said, his tone resembling that of a parent.

"Alright," Mora sighed, knowing that Reamus could see through her forced content any day. "It's just, during the battle, someone attacked me..."

"With the Death Eaters?"

Mora shook her head, signifying a 'no.' "He had been in there the whole time we had, he even asked me to dance once. I was trying to get a boy out of the gym, and he stopped us."

"Wait," Reamus interrupted lightly, "Was he a muggle or a wizard?"

"Wizard," Mora replied as Reamus' face became lined with concern. "He tried to kill the boy, so I offered myself up in his place."

Reamus groaned. "Merlin, Mora, if everyone was as selfless as you we'd be in a much better world." He smiled at Mora in admiration. "I remember now, I saw you with this guy, right? I saw him threaten you..."

"And if it weren't for you and your stunning spell, I might not be here right now," Mora added.

"So I got him then?"

"No, but right before I expected him to kill me, he had to duck away, dragging me with him. And then..." Mora trailed off, remembering the menace of his eyes and the familiarity of his lips.

"What?" Reamus assisted, "What happened?"

"He kissed me." Mora looked back to Reamus, flooded with uneasiness. "Reamus, I know who it was."

"You do?" Reamus echoed.

Mora nodded. "Reamus...It was Colton."

Those eyes plagued Mora's mind, and for an instance she felt another memory take hold of her, one she had buried in hopes of never reliving it again.

_C'mon Mora. I bet I could show you a better time than Black ever could..._

Mora clenched her eyes shut as she tried to press the image out of her mind.

_SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!_

"He's a Death Eater then," Reamus concluded, "He must have joined up with the rest of them."

"No," Mora said. "No, there's no way Colton Bayard is a Death Eater."

"Why?" Reamus asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Because Tom would never allow any Bayard to join his ranks," Mora explained. Her words were so calm and her tone composed. Mora never expected to be able to speak of Tom and her life before her last tempari with such ease.

"Eric Bayard betrayed Tom, Reamus," Mora explained, "He betrayed his confidence by exposing secrets Tom had told him about me. Plus he attacked me and pursued me while Tom and I were together. He went after what Tom _had_." Mora shivered. "Tom, Voldemort - whatever his name is - would never let a Bayard in."

"So then...why was Colton there?" Reamus pondered solemnly. "At a Death Eater attack, murdering muggles without a Dark Mark..."

"He's planning something," Mora thought aloud as a chill swept through her, "I can feel it, Reamus."

"Colton? Or Voldemort..."

Mora looked out the window as the harsh wind tossed the bare branches of the winding trees surrounding the house from side to side. The wind howled, leaving Mora with a foreboding sense. Danger was on its way, and it may just sneak up on the Marauders when the least expected it.

She looked back to Reamus. "Both."

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Colton Bayard had known fear before. This fact was hard to believe, seeing as he was the pampered son in an affluent, pureblooded family. Yet he understood much more of that nasty emotion than people gave him credit for. He felt it when he was eleven, a mere boy, when he received his Hogwarts letter a full week after Roiser and Avery. He felt it when he was fourteen, and his father suffered a massive heart attack. He felt it when he was seventeen, caught in the middle of a crime that could potentially land him in Azkaban

He felt it at the start of seventh year, when each of his friends received _it_. One by one, his inner circle received letters, each from a mysterious sender. Each was recruited by the Dark Lord himself, urging them to join his most loyal band of followers. To fight for the cause the Dark Lord gave his life too, the cause Colton himself was willing to die for. One by one, each of Colton's friends slipped away, only to return with the most highly treasured symbol of the time. The Dar Mark branded upon their unworthy little wrists.

He felt it when month after month he waited anxiously, begging for the day he too would receive a letter. He felt it when someone as dense as Roiser paraded about the Slytherin common room with his new tattoo, while Colton's own wrist remained bare. He felt it when he was left behind to sit upon the side lines of this war, when he more than anyone was destined to be in the middle of the fray.

Fear was something Colton Bayard had learned to live with.

And now, Colton found himself facing the most fearsome night of his life. And instead of hiding safely tucked away from it all, running with his tail between his legs just as everyone expected him too, Colton took it in stride. This night could quite possibly be the end for Colton. What he had done was dangerous, and seeing as though he survived the battle, he may not survive it's repercussions. Yet at the same time, if all went according to Colton's plan, tonight would only be the beginning.

It had been easy to infiltrate the ambush. Tate, a few simple drops of vetriserium, and a quick memory charm left Colton with all the information he needed. He slipped into the crowd of muggles without even a hint of suspicion. And when the battle began, Colton showed no mercy.

Colton's thought loomed back to one, though, who had not been a part of his plan. He had put her behind him long ago, and to have her thrown into the middle of his glorious night was certainly a surprise for Colton. As was that kiss...

_No_, He commanded his mind. Tonight was not about her. It was about himself as his ascendance to glory. His acceptance into the ranks he so longed to be a part of.

The two Death Eaters led Colton into a dark room, torches offering the only light. The released their hold on his arms, allowing him to saunter into the heart of the chamber himself. At the very head say a man, his face masked in shadow.

This was it. His big moment. His one chance.

Standing before the man, Colton sunk to his knees. "My Lord," he said.

The man rose from his seat, stepping out from his cover of darkness. His pale, ghostly face glowed eerily in the firelight, and his crimson eyes bore straight through Colton like a knife. His presence amid the room was like no other, as Colton could practically feel the power emitting from him. It was him. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You-Know-Who, The Dark Lord.

He stepped closer, examining Colton carefully. Strumming his long fingernails against his arm, he hissed, "Bayard, is it?"


	46. An Intern's Plight

46. An Intern's Plight

Until the spring, Mora would have to endure this grueling state. At the very, very bottom of the Saint Mungo's food chain, like the algae that got gobbled up by all the fish for breakfast, wasn't an easy place to be; an intern. It felt as if Mora was working ever movement of every day, chasing one emergency after another. It took all of her, and well as Lily's, energy to maintain such a life, leaving them with hardly any to spare between the hospital and Order business. Whenever they two seemed to find a moment of peace, another disaster would spring up and snatch them away from their refuge.

That late November afternoon was no different. The waiting area of the emergency room seemed to be bursting at the seams as patients took up every inch of space. Due to a sudden shortage of healers that week (due to some "_conference_" down in Panama,) the hospital was left grossly understaffed. Disgruntled witches and wizards with their own aliments and injuries each waited anxiously, thoroughly appalled by the delay. And of course, who do these disgruntled patients turn to in their haste, unleashing their fury? The few interns manning the desk, of course.

Lily, Mora, and a third intern, Lucille, a woman in her mid twenties with bright turquoise hair, raced back and forth between patients, trying to deal with each disaster in a composed manner. Each woman stayed firmly behind the safety of the counter, fumbling with charts and patient information and silently shriveling beneath the insanity of it all.

But still, there was always a way to find comfort in such a disconcerting place.

"See you at six then?" James purred as he and Lily pulled out of a tight embrace.

"Six it is," she beamed. Giving her one last peck, James back away, his eyes still locked on Lily as he made his way through the cluttered waiting room. As James nearly knocked over a young boy waiting for his checkup, who gave James a cheeky response, Lily laughed, returning behind the counter besides Mora.

"Lucky twit," Mora huffed jokingly as she fumbled through a patient's chart.

"That I am..." Lily said dreamily as he eyes followed James as he finally sneaked out of the hospital unscathed.

"While I get to drown in the sea of kids with dragon pox and Mister Belling with..." Mora's eyes narrowed to read the chart, "a wand impaled through his hand, you get your Mister Right."

"You'll find yours, someday," Lily said, still staring off into space. Suddenly her dreamy demeanor turned sour as her face turned green. Bringing her hand to her mouth, Lily dashed from behind the counter, he blue healers robes fluttering behind her as she escaped into the lavatory.

Mora sighed worriedly. Working in Saint Mungo's around the clock must have taken its toll on Lily. For the past two weeks or so, Lily was constantly fighting some sort of stomach bug, rushing off to the bathroom at all hours. Anything could set her off, the sight of some foods, the smells of some potions in the house and in the hospital, and sometimes she would fell nausea attack without any prompting at all.

At least for an hour, Lily forgot about her sudden illness as James paid a surprise visit to the hospital. Mora had no idea where they had gone for that time, but Mora was left to man the waiting room alone, which she really didn't mind, as her two friends found some privacy in this chaos. James' presence found a way to turn Lily's sullen attitude suddenly bright.

Mora shuffled with the charts on the desk, picking up what she thought was Mister Belling's. She flipped open the first page, but the words _Lily Evans_ store back at her, in plain, professional blue ink. Startled, Mora skimmed the summary of the page. Was Lily sick? Some fatal disease she was too afraid to tell them about? Had she contracted something here at the hospital? Was she dying?

Yet as she read on, Mora found the reason for Lily's aliment, as well as for James' inexplicable appearance at the hospital that day. With the chart still tight in her fist, Mora tucked away from the desk. She barreled into the ladies room. Lily jumped from her place at the sink, the water still running as she took notice of Mora's grin.

"You're pregnant?"

Lily's eyes look suddenly startled. "How did you...?"

"You're PREGNANT!" Mora threw her arms around Lily, squealing in joy.

"How long?" Mora asked as she pulled away.

"About a month," Lily beamed. "Mora, I'm so excited! Can you believe it? Me, James...and a baby!"

Lily would certainly be the perfect mother. Sweet, caring, loving, yet tough and brilliant. She had certainly played Mum to the Marauders during their time at Hogwarts, trying to keep them in tow despite their mischievous antics. She knew how to crack the whip on those boys, keeping them in line the best she could. After all, it was impossible to completely tame the Marauders.

"I mean, I always knew I wanted to have a family, but I just didn't expect this to happen so quickly after the wedding..." Lily's smile grew wider as she put a hand on her stomach, still firm and trim, gingerly. "It's all just happening so fast, I was afraid James would be, well..."

"Horrified, cold-footed James?" I suggested. The same James we all knew and loved despite his slight issues with commitment. Of course the Marauders had all been shocked when James had asked Lily to marry him. True, he adored Lily, and knew she would be the only girl for him. Yet when presented with the image of the ball-and-chain realities of marriage, Mora and the other had all expected James to run away screaming. But here he was, happily wed to Lily after all, and now an expecting father.'

"And he's just the opposite!" Lily continued, pride swelling in her misty emerald eyes. "He's great, Mora! When I told I thought I might be pregnant, he ran out and bought a little Quidditch jersey for the baby. It was amazing, Mora, _he's_ amazing."

Mora grinned. She had never pinned James to really be the father type. He, as well as those other Marauders, was always so childish, so impetuous that it felt impossible to consider them adults. Yet, there they all were, out on their own, in the work force, even fighting in the Order. And now James, happily married family man.

"I'm so happy for you, Lil!" Mora congratulated, still fighting the temptation to screech out in joy. "Does anyone else know yet?"

Lily shook her head. "We were planning to tell you all at dinner tonight. So act surprised!"

"Trust me, I will!"

"Oy, you two!" Lucille's voice squawked as she shoved her turquoise head into the lavatory. "We've got a madhouse out here, so I suggest you haul your arses back!" She sauntered away, the door slamming behind her.

"Duty calls," Mora said, rolling her eyes. "You gonna be alright?"

"I'll manage," Lily answered as the two made their way out of the lavatory. "Besides, my healer's going to prescribe me something to help with the morning sickness."

"'Cuse me, Miss," a small voice pepped. Mora spun around, spying a small girl peering up at her. Her blonde curls hung loosely around her petite face, framing her frightened hazel eyes. Mora felt her heart race as she store upon this girl. A sudden pang of guilt struck Mora as she store at the girl's features; features Mora was forced to hide in order to protect her own life. "Would you mind helping me, Missus Healer?'

Lily looked to Mora, affection swelling in her eyes. Yet another exasperated _Move it!_ from Lucille could be heard. "You go on," Mora prompted.

Mora knelt down to the girl's level as Lily rushed off back to the hoards of patients. "Of course. What's the matter?"

"I lost my bow," she explained, motioning to her pigtails, missing a bright, pink ribbon.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Mora cooed. "I don't think we'll be able to find it."

The little girl's face dropped. She gazed down at her small, white sneakers, a saddens creeping into Mora. "But," Mora started, "How about..." Mora turned about, spying a storage closet against the wall. Prying open the door, Mora bustled between the boxes lined across shelves until she found a roll of stickers.

Mora returned to the little girl, holding out the roll for the girl to see. "Which do you like?"

The girl, whose face picked up a bit, pointed to the second sticker, a metallic unicorn that pranced back and forth within the sticker. "Good choice," Mora said as she pulled the sticker off the paper. "Where do you want it?"

The little girl pointed eagerly to her shirt, underneath her left shoulder. Gingerly, Mora placed stuck it upon the bright pink cloth. "Stick in on tight," Mora instructed as the little girl patted the sticker enthusiastically. "Perfect," Mora smiled.

As her face perked up with light, the little girl wrapped her frail arms around Mora's waist, hugging her tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you Missus Healer!"

"You're welcome dear," Mora smiled as the girl pulled away.

"I've gotta go, my mum's probably all-panicky," the girl said as she started off down the corridor. "Bye Missus Healer!"

"Bye," Mora waved as the girl disappeared around the corner.

"That was rather impressive, Healer Ashford," a voice greeted.

Mora spun around, startled at the sudden voice. Her thoughts had been so consumed by the little girl who had just skipped away, it was as if Mora had been stuck in some kind of trance.

Now she found herself back in reality, facing another Healer in the middle of the emergency room's insanity. Healer Adam Prewett had been the last person Mora expected to stumble upon in these hallways. While he was young, perhaps twenty-four or twenty-five, Prewett proved to be the hospital's most valued healer. There was no reason for such a high skilled healer to be down on this floor, where the interns scurried about aiding with the _little_ people.

His medical expertise was not the only thing Prewett had going for him. Red, long hair framed his flawless face, now tied back professionally. His dark brown eyes could melt through any nurse or young female healer, and his deep, rich voice could entrance anyone in a ten kilometer radius. Mora herself sometimes found herself melting in his presence, at he had assisted in some of the new recruits healer training along with Gipps over the summer.

"You have a true talent with people," Prewett complimented, "Something half these _healers_ have no understanding of."

Mora felt her cheeks turning slightly pink as she hurried out a small reply. "It was nothing, I was just being nice..."

"And that girl appreciated it," Prewett pointed out.

"Yeah, well," Mora started, a bit of hopelessness flooding her voice as her thoughts drifted back to the battle raging in the waiting room, "If she had been a few years older in and need of some medical attention, I don't think she would have been so appreciative."

"It's tough," Prewett says, "Trust me, all these people want is immediate attention, and we just can't give it to them," Prewett explained. "And our dear board of governors shoves all of the interns into the path of their rage..."

_Ah, so that's what I'm here to do,_ Mora thought bitterly, _Messy social-work. Brilliant._

"Now, if they could see what a star Healer you are," Prewett went on, "They wouldn't dare complain to you."

Now it was obvious that Mora was blushing. She felt suddenly self conscious at Prewett's gracious words. "Me? No, I'm just an intern, I..."

"Don't be bashful, Miss Ashford, you're the best thing that's happened to this hospital in years. The most promising healer to walk through those doors in ages. Everyone can see it..."

"Not Gipps," Mora groaned, "Nope, to him I'm that girl who doesn't follow _absolute protocol_ to the teeth, and that's that."

"Nah, he knows talent when he sees it, even if he is a stuck-up geezer." Prewett chuckled as Mora shared a smile with him. A small beep blared from Prewett's watch. He glared down at its surface. "I'll be off then, got a de-pixing at four," he started. "So how about we continue this conversation say...Friday night?"

"Friday night?" Mora echoed.

"You know, night - when it's dark outside and we're not chasing after people with spatter-groit?" Prewett teased playfully. "How about at Terano's?"

"_Terano's_?" That had to be one of the most expensive restaurants in the area! Mora had never been to a place like that, certainly with her non-existent salary at the moment she could never afford something like that.

"Would you prefer the hospital cafeteria?" he grinned.

"No, no, we'll go with your choice," Mora laughed.

"Until Friday, Miss Ashford," he said.

"Mora," she corrected.

"Mora..." he smiled, his brown eyes sparkling back at me before he turned and disappeared down the corridor.

"Friday..." Mora echoed as she stood alone in the middle of the bustling hall, staring off into the distance dreamily. Until suddenly, it hit her.

_Wait...I have a DATE?_


	47. Dates and Deliberations

47. Dates and Deliberations

Mora never thought such small, trivial details could become enormously important. She knew tough choices awaited her as she stumbled through the tribulations of adulthood, what with the trials of a new career and fighting alongside the Order, not to mention holding together the lies weaving from every direction keeping her, Mora _Ashford_, alive. But never did she think a decision like the one Lily posed to her would cause Mora so much grief.

"Maybe the red ones," Lily mused. She held up her right hand, the bright, sleek red pumps hanging by their straps off Lily's fingers. "Or maybe the black..." She tottered, now eyeing the black strappy heels in her right hand. "Oh, what do you think, Em?"

"Tough call," Emmeline said, putting a finger to her lips as she pondered. "Both go great with the dress, not to mention they'll make her ankles look a little less f-"

"Don't harras my ankles!" Mora giggled nervously, blushing slightly at the thought of her somewhat chunky-ankles. She sat upon her bed as her two friends stood in front of her, her bare toes skimming against the surface of the soft carpeting.

"I can't pick! It's too hard!" Emmeline sighed in defeat. "What do you think, Mora?"

"In all honesty, I don't see why it's so important," Mora made the mistake of muttering.

Both Lily's and Emmeline's jaws dropped as they store upon Mora as if she were some feral creature in a cage. "Not important?" Lily echoed.

"Dear, dear Mora," Emmeline started. "Trust us; we've been doing this for a while. Every bit counts, even something like what shoes you wear have a vital impact upon the outcome of the date."

_Date_. The word felt odd in Mora's mind. When she tried to speak it aloud, it just fell sourly in her throat, like a lump that just didn't belong there. Dating wasn't something Mora was all to accustomed too. After all, out of her scarce memories, Mora had extremely limited experience with the opposite sex. The first came with a certain cocky Eric Bayard, an infatuation that stuck with Mora for about half a second. Then there was the long-haul, the thing most girls of Mora's age experience at least once. The first boyfriend. The first love. Tom...

"Oh bullock! I've got to go!" Emmeline whined as she shrugged into her jacket. Mora felt herself ease slightly, thankful that Emmeline's sudden departure shattered her unwelcome thoughts of her former boyfriend.

"Duty calls, eh?" Mora called from the opposite side of the bedroom. "What this time? A fashion show in London? Or maybe the Dragons release party for their next album?"

"Close," Emmeline triumphed. "Launch party for Madame Annetta Circe."

"The romance novel author?" Lily asked, her interest peeking as Emmeline nodded. "That sounds incredible!"

"For her newest hit on the shelves, _A Banshee's Love Song."_

"Sounds like something Circe would write," Mora noted.

Fancy occasions with A-List celebrities had been something Emmeline found herself in the midst of lately. Her success at Witch's Weekly had not gone unnoticed, and she gained more favor with the hit magazine's editors, she found herself with more and more assignments, more articles to write, and new glamorous functions to attend. Whether it be a gala, a concert, or some other event for the wizarding world's teen idols and elite, Emmeline was there, quill in hand.

"Wish me luck!" Emmeline called as she slipped out the door.

"Luck!" Lily offered enthusiastically.

"And you," Emmeline said as her head popped back into the bedroom, her gaze narrowed upon Mora, "Try to have a good time tonight. Remember, you use to fork on the outside and work your way in -"

"I'll be fine, Em," Mora sighed.

"Have fun!" She said before shutting the door and rushing down the hall.

"Easier said than done..." Mora grumbled as she flopped down onto her bed, her back smashing into the mattress.

"C'mon Mora," Lily said reassuringly as she sat lay beside Mora, "It's simple really. Candlelight, a gourmet restaurant, a dashing, gorgeous hunk..."

"Don't remind me," Mora moaned as both the girls store up at the ceiling. "Remember my track record with guys? Not really noteworthy..."

A small silence filled between them, before Lily finally said, "You're afraid, aren't you? Because of Tom."

_Tom_.

Why when it took so much energy, so much diligence and an incredible sense of self-denial to repress the memory of her time with Tom Riddle, how did the mention of his name send all those suffocated emotions running back to her?

She loved him. She loved Tom with everything she had, everything a poor, orphaned, lovesick child could offer. She put her entire world into him, all of her hopes, her fears, her dreams, wrapped up with his deep eyes, his penetrating stare, his soothing presence. He alone shared with Mora something other girls only dreamed of. Everything seemed perfect.

And of course, everything went horribly, horribly wrong.

Her soul-mate was a monster. Her knight in shining armor was an armed and dangerous killer. Her first love was her worst enemy, one day to be bent upon her destruction. What she saw to be a happy, picture perfect fairy tale was his own violent, ruthless rise to power. Their perfect world shattered, her dreams broken, their love tainted from the start.

It was natural Mora would never want to go anywhere near love ever again. She had been so barley burned Mora would rather be caught dead than be even spying upon that flame. Of course there were other reasons for her reluctance towards romantic interests, such as haunting memories from two very twisted Bayards. And yet, there she was, being primped and prodded, minutes away from something Mora feared more than Death Eaters, more than any memory, even more than the discovery of her secret.

A date.

"It's sort of hard to trust in the whole dating-thing when the last boyfriend I had cared more about world domination and mass murder than me," Mora blurted out. "To put it bluntly."

A smile cracked over Lily's concern. "That was rather blunt," Lily added, "And true. But you know it would never be like that again..."

"Would it?" Mora clenched her eyes shut briefly, until the image of the young suitor, Adam Prewett, came into mind. "I mean, I'm not saying I'm about to tell Adam I love him or anything. Bloody hell, I don't even know the guy. It's just..."

_Tom. Tom Riddle_... Her mind screamed. _Tom Riddle._

Mora forced the name from her thoughts. "I thought I found love. But it was all based on one, giant lie. How could I ever trust in anything like that again?"

"I guess, you've just got to have faith," Lily said, her voice soothing and soft as ever. "I mean, look at James and me."

A grin took over Mora's fearful features. James and Lily, not to mention baby-on-the-way; the picture of pure happiness. "Just wait, I bet he's a psycho-killer too," Mora joked.

"Nah, that's me," Lily laughed. She rose from the bed, picking up the heels in both hands. "So, black or red?"

Sitting up, Mora pondered each decision, before pointing to her choice. "Red, perfect!" Lily squealed.

Lily practically threw the shoes into Mora's grasp. After sliding her feet into the gingerly, Mora stood up from the bed, wandering before the mirror upon the wall. Her outfit tonight was quite a change from her usual messy ponytail, healer robes, and sneakers. Her hair had been pulled back, resting elegantly in a bun, leaving her shoulder bear. The black dress fell down to just beyond her mid-thigh area, showcasing her legs down to the bright red heels.

Lily came behind Mora, placing the black shall around Mora's shoulders. "Perfect," she smiled. "Adam Prewett, eat your heart out..."

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She was on a date.

"Anyway, we were thinking of buying that house on Cauff's Place, near the park, since it's a four bedroom..."

She was on a date.

"...And you know, Lily likes the neighborhood. Says it like the one she grew up in, with those little fences and rosebushes everywhere. Perfect for the baby..."

She was on a date and it was driving him crazy.

"Hello? Earth to Padfoot!" Reamus called, waving a hand before Sirius' sour face.

"Wha-What?" Sirius said, shocked out of his trance. The four Marauders sat at Sirius' kitchen table, playing cards together on one of their first guys-only nights since their graduation. "Erm, sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Just about the naked girls in front of the house right now," James said.

"Hmm, that's nice," Sirius said flatly, as if he had not even heard James' words.

"That does it, he's gone brain dead," Reamus announced.

"Sirius, girls-naked-now!" Peter practically screamed into Sirius' ear.

"What about the weather?" Sirius asked.

"What's gotten into you, mate?" James asked with concern laced in his voice. "I mean, with the mention of nudity you would normally bolt out that door. And now, now you're not..."

"Perverted?" Peter supplied.

"And it's upsetting," James finished.

"Sorry to disappoint you all," Sirius grumbled as he fidgeted with the cards in his grasp.

Of course Sirius' mind had not been with the game, nor with his mates' chatter. How could it be when the one thing Sirius dread the most in this world was at work? How could he possibly focus on anything, locked up here in his own kitchen while she was out there, on a _date_?

The very word sent fire running down Sirius' throat. She was miles and miles away, looking as stunning as ever. Wherever she was, Sirius bet that the lights were low, the restaurant held that old-romantic charm with soft music and flickering candles. And she sat there, unbearably close to some charming, conniving letch trying to woo her to shame. Was she laughing at his jokes? Melting for his charm? Falling for his act of sincerity?

This guy had to be a fraud, as Sirius had decided. Of course he heard a mention or two of this Adam Prewett from Mora and Lily over the summer, a bit or two about how he was _brilliant_ or a _genius_. How he was an amazing healer, and dashing, and young, and million other attributes that had the ladies falling at his feet. To Sirius, it was all irrelevant. There was one thing all guys wanted, and Prewett was no different.

Lover-boy was playing this game of cat-and-mouse that Sirius was all too familiar with. Hell, Sirius was the bloody champion of that game. Using whatever he had at his disposal, he would enthrall his prey. Of course, for those like Prewett and Sirius himself, money became a gross advantage. Prewett had Mora out at the fanciest restaurants around, something Mora could never afford on her own. Next he would break the ice with a joke or two, telling some story that would paint him as either a sap or a bad ass, which to girl both translated as heart throb. Then he would lean in close, and with an inch of space left between them, he would say something that would seal the deal, like about or eyes or her smile. And then Prewett would get just what he wanted, game-over.

Sirius felt his jaw tighten. Sure, Prewett could not be nearly as good looking as Sirius, nor as charming or witty. But Sirius still feared Prewett would win this game. He must have wooed countless amounts of young, impressionable women before taking out Mora. And how did each date end?

_Back at his place_, Sirius answered regretfully. And it was obvious what an attractive young lady and scum like Prewett would do next. Something Sirius could not even bear to think about...

Mora had to be smarter than any other girl Prewett had encountered before. Sirius was sure of that. After all, she was brilliant, and crafty, and could cast a hex faster than anyone he had ever seen. Not to mention she was gorgeous and funny, and caring, and absolutely perfect.

And, of course, Prewett was nothing like that. He was smug and arrogant, with his fancy healer's license and his bloody hair blowing in the bloody wind. He had to be manipulative, one of those misogynistic types who saw every innocent date as a prize to be conquered. He had to be a right, foul git. Sirius was sure of it.

Adam Prewett was scum. He was scum and all he wanted out of Mora was a one-night fling. Sirius was sure of it.

Right?

Prewett wasn't a stand up guy. He wasn't a healer to help people or to serve the common good. He didn't give a rat's arse about his fellow man.

Right?

He didn't see anything in Mora. He didn't care about her feelings, nor her hopes, her dreams, her ambitions. He would never develop _feelings_ for her.

Right?

The only thing he would ever feel for her was lust. Pure, unadulterated lust. His intentions were one-hundred percent vile that Mora would see right through him.

Right?

But, Sirius' worst fear was nothing of this sort. It was not that Prewett was an arrogant, wasteful snob, nor a lecherous pig. What if Prewett really was the noble guy Mora made him out to be? What if he did see her talent, her intelligence, her kind spirit? What if he saw all the good in her, instead of just lustful need?

And worst of all, if Prewett surpassed Sirius' expectations, what if Mora and he were to start something?

What then for Sirius?

zszszszszszszszszszszszsz

A pop rattled the silent countryside as two figures emerged out of the dark-nothingness. They strolled down the abandoned roadside, a smile undeniably plastered to Mora's face. The evening had not gone exactly as planned, or at least as Mora had imagined it. Yet somehow Mora found herself bursting with excitement. "You know you don't have to walk me the entire way," she said, "It's not much further."

"No, no I do," Adam insisted, his voice swelling around Mora like someone had just pried open a bottle of love potion. "After all, someone has to make sure you don't get injured again after your little incident."

Mora groaned, her eyes spying down to the shoes clutched in her hand, one of which was now missing the long, slender heel. "Don't remind me..."

"Honestly I thought that woman was about to die when it happened..."

"When my shoe got stuck in the carpet? Or when I landed in her lap?" The two rounded the corner as the silhouette of Mora's home appeared in the horizon.

"The latter," Adam answered.

Mora felt her cheeks burning even hotter. "I made a right fool of myself, didn't I?"

"Well, you did manage to snap your shoe apart and then end up on top of Kengiston Shaw's wife," Adam admitted as Mora felt her shame run deeper. "And it was incredible."

Mora felt her embarrassment dimming away. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Adam smiled eagerly, "Those stuffy rich people, I don't know how someone like Lord Kengiston Shaw can sit down anymore..."

"Sit down?"

A smirk tugged across his mouth. "Well, with that stick shoved permanently up his arse, it must be difficult."

Mora laughed. "Perhaps you can help him with that, sir Healer," she teased.

"May have to charge him extra," Adam pondered, "I do have a special git-modified fee..."

Mora and Adam came before the fence of the house which trailed around the property. Adam stopped before the gate, "To tell you to truth, I feel like tonight I, well...with that restaurant and all, I was just trying to impress you."

"Me?" Mora said, dumbstruck.

"Well, you are the one I took out, Mora," he said, his tone still low and dreamy. He tapped his wand against the gate, and slowly it creaked open. "C'mon, how else could I snag a girl like you."

"A girl like me?" Mora echoed. Now she truly befuddled. A girl like her? Mora found nothing in herself of true uniqueness. She was plain. Average features, average build, average personality, the only thing that set her apart was her inhumane ability at Quidditch (which Mora found useless now that she was out of school,) and the fact that she was a Temparious hiding from Lord Voldemort. Besides that, she was nauseatingly ordinary. So what could someone like Adam Prewett - handsome, dashing, and an all around heart throb - possibly see in _her_?

"You know, smart, fierce, not to mention gorgeous."

Mora felt her face grow white-hot. Her? _Gorgeous_? Coming from someone as god-like as Adam, the words seemed unreal. Mora felt like she was floating, soaring out of her ordinary shell and stepping into this strange Mora that Adam found so fascinating. "You're amazing, Mora. I could see that since the first time I saw you this summer."

"Sure, real amazing..." Mora mused as the pair moved past the gate, heading towards the monstrous house looming in the distance. "I'm an intern chasing after the paper work in the armpit of the emergency room all day, and don't even start me on my salary..."

"It has nothing to do with your job, Mora," Adam said, "It's grueling, and usually half the interns filter out before any of you get on the payroll. But even with that, when you're at the hospital, talking with the patients, it's you treat them like...people."

"Well, they're people, not rabbits..." Mora rationalized.

"Healers just don't do that these days," Adam went on as they reached the front porch, standing before the front door. "To them, each patient is nothing more than a few extra sickles in their pocket. But when I see you with them, you make everything seem so personal, like you look beyond the precedent of the patient-healer relationship, or lack thereof. It evident that you really care about these people."

Mora felt her lips turn, forming the slightest, humbled smile. "It's my job."

"You're genuine, Mora," Adam soothed, closing the gap between them. "Every bit of you."

And then Mora did something she truly did not expect. In one, quick sweep, her hand wrapped around Adam's neck. Her lips crashed down upon his own, and just as she feared, an image burned in her mind, reminding her of the dangers of her actions. Yet as the kiss heightened, Mora pushed the memory of Tom's face away.

_It's my time, Tom,_ Mora thought to herself, with Adam's hands wrapping around her.

_It's time for you to butt out of my life. _


	48. Another Avery

48. Another Avery

There was always something about Christmas. A little sparkle that shone through the normally dull gloom of these long months. It always had a way of breaking winter's troubling curse, even if just for the Christmas season, offering a bit of solace with merriment and celebration for all. No more anxieties, no more wishing away the cold, there was nothing but laughter and carols, tinsel, holly, ginger bread, Father Christmas, eggnog and Yule cheer.

But, as usual, someone must have forgotten to tell the Death Eaters it was nearly Christmas.

Even with a week before the holiday, Mora found herself busier than usual. The Order was in high alert, and Death Eater activity had peaked in the past weeks. Battles became an average occurrence, casualties both magical and muggle a price for freedom, sleep a thing of the past. Whatever butterflies Mora had on the eve of her first battle had long since perished, and now she as well as all the new recruits were hungry for the fight.

The duels certainly dampened the Christmas spirit. A small, quaint park, blanketed with snow, usually a haven for muggle children to build snowmen and have snow-ball fights transformed into an ugly scene. The pure, white snow was now tainted with foot prints, scorch marks, and even the red stain of blood. Screaming, hexes, and curses flew from side to side as wizards and witches dodged behind trees and benches, launching attacks without hesitation.

"CRUCIO!" a Death Eater bellowed, sending the curse barreling towards Peter.

"Pete!" Emmeline cried as he raced towards Peter. Reaching him in time, she knocked the boy to the icy ground, leaving the curse to soar without a target.

"Blast you, girl," the Death Eater growled lowly, preparing for another attack.

"STUPEFY!" Mora shouted as she raced behind the Death Eater. The masked figure collapsed into the snow, and Mora pried his wand away from between his cold, limp fingers. "Lovely..." she moaned as she stored the new prize away.

Without warning, Mora found her feet being wrench off the ground as a spell struck her between the shoulder blades. She was thrown into the air until her back crashed into the trunk of a tree. Mora let out a groan of agony as her attacker came into view. His eyes gleamed behind his skeletal mask as he hissed, "What do we have here..."

That voice.

It stung Mora's ears like fire. It just couldn't be. It had been so long; certainly Mora's memory may have wavered. Yes, Mora had convinced herself it was just her ears playing a trick on her. But as the stranger loomed closer, she did not have more time to deliberate.

Mora scrambled to her feet. A searing pain raced through her back, and she braced the tree as she stood, wincing in pain. Her wand arm raised without a moment's delay, and a cool, unflinching confidence overtook her. "Expelli-"

"Protego," the Death Eater chanted, casting away Mora's spell with ease. The voice struck her again as a chill raked over her.

"ASHFORD!" the sound of Molly Weasley's voice boomed from across the park.

"Ashford, eh?" the Death Eater mused darkly. "Yeah, I've heard a lot about you from my nephew. You know, the one you sent to Azkaban."

It was true.

There was no denying it now. This wasn't paranoia setting it. It wasn't due to a faulty memory, nor was it a simple mistake. She knew exactly who this man was, and, worst of all, he knew her. Not just her alias, Mora Ashford, but the real Mora. Mora Cartea.

Korbin Avery leered behind his mask, his wand posed and ready to strike down upon the reeling Mora. "I'll show you what happens when you mess with family, girl..."

Yet Korbin never got the chance. In a flash, a hex bulldozed into Korbin, catching him off guard. He let out a tragic _ummph_ as he was thrown several feet back, landing in a heap of snow. "THAT'S RIGHT!" Molly Weasley shouted as she came to Mora's side. "That's what you get when you mess with _our_ family!"

"Look! They're running!" Rebecca Fenwick shouted to the Order. The remainder of the Death Eaters had abandoned the fight, fleeing to the outskirts of the park where they may be free of the anti-apperation charm and escape to safety.

"Alright dears," Molly Weasley instructed, seeing as she was one of the eldest Order members in the fray, "You know the routine. Any Death Eaters left behind: disarm, detain, and then it's Azkaban for them."

A cheer sounder over the victors, yet as Mora turned her gaze back to where Korbin had fallen, her heart skipped. All that remained in the spot was a large, man-sized indent in the brown tainted snow. Korbin had escaped.

Korbin Avery. Mora had so many questions, so many mysterious know thrown at her curiosity. She remembered him from Slytherin as only Mora could; as the brashest and crudest of the bunch. The Slytherins hadn't been the most dainty nor most polite of people to start with, but Korbin had a way of making even Jades look like a perfect little angel. He was always the first one of the group to make some bellow-the-belt remark, some awful comment that put slurs from other Slytherins to shame. Korbin also had a tendency to be incredibly vulgar with any girl he met, which was hard for even Mora, Cassidy, and Jades to tolerate.

Korbin also struck Mora as menacing all those thirty-five years ago. Mora's _friends_ had a tendency to end up in a few rows, but Korbin always seemed to be the one to strike the first blow. It was eerie how even tame, school boy violence helped feed Korbin's strange hunger. Mora remember it all too well from her final day as a Slytherin, when we she a newly unarmed Hagrid from the brunt of Korbin's wrath.

_"Careful Hagrid, you want to be careful now. No wand to protect yourself anymore, might want to watch what you say. That is, if you fancy living," Korbin snarled. _

"_Korbin, please!" Mora shouted, jumping between the two boys before they had the chance to rip each other's throats out. "Let's just go, okay?"_

"_Sure Mora," he said, pushing the girl out of the way, "Just as soon as I punish this half breed for even looking at a Slytherin, let alone being bold enough to bore them to death as well." _

_Drawing his wand from his robes, Korbin pointed the wand squarely at Hagrid's chest, making Hagrid's eyes bulge out from his skull._

And now, this impulsive, pompous, ignorant boy had grown up, finding himself within the ranks of his former friend. Threats, nasty remarks, and a few curses here and there were things of the past. And as Korbin had matured into adulthood, so had his dark ambitions. A Death Eater. Voldemort's follower. Tom's follower.

"Mora, are you alright, dear?" Molly's concerns flooded Mora's ears. Molly's eyes trailed to the spot where Mora gazed upon, where Korbin was now absent. "Pity that is, but don't you worry, Mora. We'll get him next time."

To Molly Weasley, Korbin was just another Death Eater. Another enemy, just like the last, who deserved, in the self-proclaimed (and much deserved title of) Mum to the Order's fashion, a good spanking. To but to Mora, Korbin's freedom held a much heavier price. It meant she ran the chance of her lies falling apart, her identity exposed, and her life collapsing.

It meant losing everything.

"I hope you're right," Mora said solemnly.

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"Sorry I'm late!" Mora called out as she dodged inside the flat. A drift of icy winter wind escaped in as she shut the door, racing inside to the living room. The flat was, in simplest terms, incredible. It was more like a pent-house, with the standards; kitchen, bathroom, living room, but a winding staircase lead to a second floor, housing a bedroom and a study as well. The vast ceiling's a serene blue walls made Mora feel at sudden ease whenever she stepped inside.

Of course, Mora suspected her light-headiness when inside Adam Prewett's flat was not due solely to decorum.

Adam Prewett. Young success, esteemed healer, resident heart-throb, and now Mora Ashford's boyfriend. They had been together for nearly a month, and for the first time in ages, Mora remembered what it was like to have pure, utter bliss.

"Tough day at the office?" Adam mused as he emerged from behind his newly arrived Christmas tree, pine needles adorning his shirt in a messy fashion. He pecked Mora lightly as she slid off her jacket.

"Got the bloody call on my way over here," Mora sighed. "Can you believe it? A full-fledged fight in the middle of the day, in a muggle neighborhood."

"Doesn't sound like the Death Eaters if you ask me," Adam suggested.

Adam had known of Mora's involvement in the Order of the Phoenix for some time now. All three of his cousins, twins Fabian and Gideon Prewett, and Molly Weasley, had been members for years, leaving youngest Adam to watch on the sidelines. True, he had been a fair dueler during his time at Hogwarts, but Adam had always been more of the Ravenclaw type; solving problems with logic, not wands. For now, he was contented with staying out of the fight itself, however he had hinted in the past that perhaps one day he may wish to join the cause.

"You think they're slipping up?"

"I don't know," Mora sighed before throwing he arms in the air. She plopped down upon his lavish, leather sofa, mopping slightly as she shrugged into its plush surface. "I don't nor will I ever understand the inner workings of the Death Eaters. The only thing I know is they have an awful habit of scheduling their massacres every time I make plans."

"Diabolical," Adam teased. "To think, on top of their terrorist agenda, they just have to destroy your social life."

"Not only that," Mora said as Adam sat beside her. Gingerly, his thumb traced over a fresh scrap upon Mora's forehead, the newest addition to her battle-scar collection. "But they seem to be keeping me from seeing a certain boyfriend..."

"Well that's simply unacceptable," Adam purred as he moved closer, their foreheads resting upon each other's. But his mood shifted from playful to concern. "I'm worried about you, Mora."

Mora sighed deeply, leaning back. "We've talked about this. I can take care of myself, Adam," Mora tried reasoning.

"I know, I know, I don't mean to undermine your, erm, Order-ly abilities," Adam counteracted. "It's just, it's hard for me. Every time you're running late, locked in some battle somewhere, I'm afraid I may lose you."

"Hey," Mora said, placing a hand on the side Adam's face. "I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

"Still..."

"Not to mention you've got your entire family watching my back every battle," Mora added, leaning back. "Just today Molly tore a Death Eater off my -" And instantly she regretted her words.

"You were in trouble? How? What happened?"

"Easy there. Just the normal stuff, I wasn't on the brink of death if that's what you're thinking."

"You can be much closer than you expect," Adam said cryptically. "You're being as careful as possible?"

"Yes, Adam," Mora moaned.

"You're not putting yourself in any extra danger?" he interrogated on.

"Yes, Adam."

"Not running into You-Know-Who's liar alone?"

Mora felt her body instantly tense. Luckily Adam did not notice. "Yes, a thousand times yes, Adam! Now c'mon, enough of this, let's get to work here..." Mora rose from the couch, moving towards the Christmas tree. "Where are the ornaments?"

Adam, abandoning his seat, pulled his wand out of his pocket, and with two flicks of it, a crate slid across the glistening wooden floor. The crate rested at Mora's feet, it's lid sliding off gracefully, revealing rows of elegant ornaments, all red, black, and silver.

"Ready for this?" Adam teased. "That tree's been putting up one hell of a fight. Think you can handle it?"

"We'll see..." Mora laughed.

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"See you tomorrow, then?" Adam asked as Mora shrugged back on her jacket. Night had fallen, and outside the windows of his flat, snow danced to the ground gracefully in the darkness.

"Bright and early," Mora replied as she wrapped a scarf around her neck sloppily. "Six a.m. as usual. Leaving me..." Mora pushed up the sleeve of her jacket, her eyes falling upon her wrist watch in dismay. "...Five hours of sleep."

"Don't worry, most interns sleep on the job anyway."

"Ha-ha," Mora rolled her eyes.

"You'll be okay getting home alone?"

"Yes, Adam, I think I can apperate from here to my house in one piece," Mora said. "I promise, no splinching." She turned to the door, "Goodnight then..."

"Where do you think you're going?" Adam laughed as he playfully spun Mora around. His hands embedded in her soft, chestnut curls, the two shared a deep, drawn out kiss.

"Satisfied?" Mora giggled, still wrapped within Adam's strong embrace.

"Almost..." He pressed his lips gently upon hers one last kiss before parting.

They parted, and before heading out the door, Mora smiled. "Nighty-night," she said, "Try to sleep, will you? If I find out you're hiding out in empty room tomorrow catching up on a few z's, you're a dead man."

"Promise. But before you go..." Adam disappeared into the kitchen. Momentarily he returned to Mora's side, a neatly wrapped box in tow. "I know it's not Christmas yet, but I just didn't want to wait..."

"Adam, you shouldn't have, I -"

He pressed a finger to Mora's lips, quieting her niceties instantly. "C'mon, I know you want it," he teased.

Mora let out a chuckle as she snatched the package from Adam. In one, strong motion, she yanked off the wrapping paper as well as the bow. She placed it atop of Adam's head, the bright purple contrasting with his flaming red hair. "Gee, thanks," he jested as he plucked to ribbon away.

Mora, know holding a velvet bow in her grasp, looked up to Adam with a look that said _This-has-got-to-be-expensive,-you-prick. _Slowly, she opened the lid, and a small, quick inhale of shock replaced her sour expression. A golden necklace glimmered in Mora's widened blue eyes, with a sapphire gem. It was elegant, and much to Mora's dismay, rather expensive.

"Adam, it's beautiful," she said. "Thank you!"

"Here," he said, taking the necklace in his hands. After unraveling the blue, cashmere scarf from around her neck, Adam clasped his gift around Mora's neck. "Perfect."

After more thanks, quite a bit more kissing, and final farewells, Mora slipped out of the flat, and with a pop, had apperated home. As he shut the door behind him, Adam felt a sudden rush pass through him. Things had certainly been hectic lately, what with work at the hospital, not to mention the constant dramas unfolding within his family. The Prewett family had never been particularly close knit, but they sure knew how to press each other's buttons. But thankfully with the holiday, the Prewett's seemed to simmer down, leaving Adam with one less frustration to deal with during this busy season.

Yet, something found its way into Adam's life. Something that would shake up the basis of Adam's neat, organized life. He had been so used to everything being planned, mapped out for him ever since he was young. This had certainly not been in the original plan, but Adam could not be more thankful that Mora had fallen into his life.

There was something about this girl that made every inch of Adam to come to life. Perhaps it was her wit, or her incredible devotion and strength, or her unyielding duty to care for others. Whatever the reason, Adam felt himself inexplicably drawn to Mora Ashford, like a moth drawn to the flame.

Yet at this point, Adam did not know whether he or Mora were the proverbial moth, foolishly lured into a sure demise.

A sudden lurch irked Adam's stomach. Grasping it in agony, Adam felt the pain prickle throughout his body, spreading through his chest, extending over his arms to his very fingertips. No, it was too soon - too soon for Adam to be feeling this pain. He had taken his last dosage five hours ago. He still had another hour to go before the potion's effects wore off.

Yet with another sudden flash of pain, Adam knew the potion was fleeting, and in a matter of moments, would completely wear off. Stumbling through his flat, Adam dashed into his kitchen. His hands trembled violently as he reached into his cupper-board, pulling out a well concealed vile.

Suppressing another scream, Adam pressed the vile to his lips, letting the liquid flow down his throat. He finished the potion in one, long swig, and within moments he could feel the pain subsiding. As the last jab of pressure melted away, Adam was able to breathe easily.

Adam let a hand comb through his long, red hair as he took yet another deep breath. He did not know how much longer he could keep this charade going. His current affliction was enough of a burden, with the constant potions and herbs, not to mention blinding pain at unexpected moments. It was sickly ironic, seeing that a healer of Adam's level could not even remedy his own _medical _dilemmas.

But for Adam, the one proponent of the situation more debilitation than the pain was the secrecy. The constant struggle between battling his affliction and keeping up appearances. To the world, he was the well-off, stare Healer Adam Prewett. He refused to show the bitter truth, the Adam Prewett who could save the lives of his patients, yet was helpless in his own life, dependant on potions to keep him going. It would be his end. They would call him weak, they would see him for what he truly was; who he truly was.

No, Adam would never let them know. For the community, ignorance would certainly be bliss, bliss for Adam at least. At the current moment, it was imperative to keep this from them. He would never be weak, he would never be less than the man they saw him to be. If it meant hiding it from the world for the rest of his days, so be it.

_Hiding it from her._

The end would justify these means.


	49. The Spirit of the Season

49. The Spirit of the Season

"Alright, alright! Hush you lot," Sirius commanded as he rose from his seat, his glass held in the air. "I know it's only Christmas Eve and what not, and seeing that we're not all going to be together tomorrow, I guess we ought to do this sentimental bullock now."

There was a chorus of "awwws" around the table as the former Gryffindors turned their attention to Sirius. "He's got such a way with words," Reamus taunted as Sirius shot him a glare.

Mora snickered at Reamus' words. True, Sirius wasn't exactly Mora's idea of a mushy, sentimental type. He was more of the let-me-make-an-awkward-joke-that's-slightly-offensive guy, but Sirius always found a way to surprise Mora.

"Thanks Moony," Sirius grumbled.

"Any time, mate..."

"Okay you two, knock it off," Lily reprimanded. "Go ahead, Sirius."

Sirius grinned at Lily once in thanks before continuing. "So, a lot had changed since last Christmas. We're out on our own, working, paying rent, some of us are married..." His eyes turned to James and Lily, the couple beaming as James put his arm around her. "...and some of us have put on a little weight."

Laughter sprinkled around the table as Lily patted her belly affectionately. "Which means come next Christmas there'll be eight of us," Sirius grinned. "Merlin have mercy..."

"Get on with it!" Emmeline called.

"Well, looks like you've got the Christmas spirit," Sirius grumbled. "The point is," his voice picked up a bit, and Mora could sense a bit of sincerity crawl over Sirius' usual sarcastic exterior. "We've been through a lot together, and there's a lot more to come. So," he rose his glass higher as he beamed, "Here's to us. Merlin knows we'll need each other, no matter how dysfunctional we are..."

"Here, here!" Reamus and James saluted as the Gryffindors lifted their glasses in the air, clinking them together as they toasted to their friendship. Sirius regained his seat, his smile still streaking across his face.

"That was great, mate," Peter congratulated.

"Yes, yes I'm amazing, I know," Sirius droned triumphantly.

"Seriously, though," Mora said, coming to Peter's aid and Sirius' admiration, "It was beautiful. In its own, Sirius Black dysfunctional fashion."

Sirius' face softened. "Exactly what I was going for," he smiled.

Mora felt a faint lurch jab her stomach. Sirius Black. Roommate, rebellious blood traitor, rookie auror, and the object of Mora's fascination. The fact that his presence still had such an effect upon Mora made her feel giddy, sick, and ridden with guilt all at the same time. There were times Mora wanted to jump into his arms and loose herself forever in his deep, gray eyes. Yet there were times when Mora wanted to slap herself across the face, to push these misguided feelings out of her mind, to shake off this infatuation with her room mate.

To make matter worse, Mora felt she was doing more than hurting herself by keeping up these feelings.

She had a boyfriend. Adam. _Her_ bloody boyfriend! Sweet, caring, gorgeous Adam. And somehow Mora's thoughts always seemed to drift back to Sirius. What kind of girlfriend was Mora, to harbor these feelings for another guy? To dream about a friend as something more, all the while overlooking the perfect relationship she had. She had Adam. She had a steady, normal, non-psychotic boyfriend. Someone who was willing to do anything to do, to go to any lengths to see her smile.

Then why wasn't Mora happy? Why when she found the perfect, reliable man who adored her, why then was she consumed by another? Why on earth did she still fancy Sirius bloody Black?

"- Mother wanted me home by eight, but I guess I could stay for desert," Peter said meekly as Mora pulled herself out of her thoughts.

"Thatta' boy, Wormtail," James said.

"You are, after all, a big boy," Sirius chided, pinching Peter's cheek, "Mummy's favorite big boy..."

"Oh, shut it, Black!" Emmeline protested. "You'd think after a few months fighting Death Eaters you might have matured up a bit."

"Me? Mature? Never."

Mora laughed to herself. Everything was perfect. Perfect in its own, imperfect, messy, beautiful way. These Gryffindors were reliable in this sense. No matter how crazy life got, from life at Hogwarts through life on their own, they always found their way back to each other. They were inseparable, and Mora didn't think even this war could break them apart.

But how wrong she was...

Suddenly, Mora felt her eyes flicker. The room around her grew fuzzy as a slow, throbbing pain took hold of Mora's head. Her lungs felt as if they were slowly being twisted tight, wringing out any trace of air. Mora knew exactly what this feeling meant. She hadn't experience this is ages.

"Mora?" a voice called, filled with concern. Yet it was too late, and Mora could not pull herself out of this state

And as she slipped into darkness, Mora braced herself. She feared whatever she may be about to remember would bring about another painful piece of Mora's abandoned life.

"Mora? Let's go, Mora," a girl called. Her long, blonde hair had been pulled behind her ears, and her hazel eyes twinkled in the December morning. She stood in the midst of the post-Christmas morning chaos, with wrapping paper and empty boxes littering every inch of the floor. Clara Cartea turned her attention to the opposite side of the living room, tutting impatiently.

A little girl trudged into the living room, rubbing her eyes sourly. Her small, blonde pigtails and fuzzy footy-pajamas framed her petite frame. "Sissy, do we have to?" the five year old Mora whined. "It's Christmas! We shouldn't have to be cleaning..."

"C'mon now," Clara soothed, kneeling down to the blonde's level. "Daddy worked really hard to get us all these gifts -"

"And Father Christmas!" Mora protested.

"Of course Father Christmas too," Clara smiled, "And you know, Father Christmas only comes to the nice children. And what do the naughty kids get?"

"Big lumps of coal!" Mora answered enigmatically.

"That's right," Clara said, "And since we need to be good all year so Father Christmas will come next year, we should get started now, right?"

"Right!"

"And it would be good of us to help Daddy by cleaning," Clara reasoned.

Mora's bright, perky faced dropped a bit. "But it's so boring..."

"Well, what if we make a game of it?" Clara handed an empty black garbage back into Mora's tiny fist.

"A game?" Mora echoed skeptically.

"Yeah," Clara said, "I get this half of the room, you get that half. First one to get all the paper in her bag wins."

"Okay!" Mora squeaked excitedly.

"Ready?" Clara smiled as Mora opened her big wide, ready to sweep up the debris. "One your mark, get set...Go!"

Like a flash, two the girls ran in opposite ends of the living room, scooping up as much wrapping paper as they could muster.

"_Fait? Rapidement?"_ Clara giggled, tossing some of the paper from her side of the room to Mora's side.

"_Tricheur!" _Mora squealed as she shoved the pile back to Clara's side. Wrapping paper swooshed through the air, landing gracefully like snowflakes as they cascaded back to the carpet.

"Oh, you're in for it now!" Clara challenged as she rushed over to her younger sister, showering her with the contents of her bag.

"No fair! _Tricheur_!" Mora laughed.

"I thought I sent you two in here to clean up, not make a bigger mess," Darryl Cartea chuckled as he emerged into the living room.

"Yeah, while we're in here scrubbing dishes, you get to goof off," Joshua gruffed as he came to his father's side with Ardien, who was covered in suds from his elbows down.

"I guess we can all use a break," Daryl smiled, placing a hand lovingly on his youngest daughter's head. "C'mon, if you want a snowball fight, then we'll have to have a real one."

"Last on dressed is a rotten egg!" Ardien laughed as he, Joshua, and Clara scrambled off into their rooms, pulling on clothes as quickly as possible.

"Daddy?" Mora asked, her small hazel eyes staring up at her father.

"Yes, princesse?"

"Are you cross with us?"

"Of course not." He took Mora's hand, guiding her to her room. "How could I be? It's Christmas, and I get to spend it with you and your brothers, and your sister. I'm the happiest man alive."

"Is she alright?"

"Don't crowd her!"

"Mora, Mora, can you hear me?"

"Get out of my way -"

"Look, she's waking up!"

Mora groaned loudly, bringing a hand to her throbbing head. Slowly she opened her eyes, greeted to the sight of six very concerned sets of eyes. She was lying on her back on the wooden floor with the Gryffindors surrounding her.

"Thank Merlin," Emmeline sighed.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked, kneeling beside Mora, his face laced with dread.

"Wha - What happened?" Mora said groggily, trying to stand up.

"Not yet," Lily said, pushing Mora back to the floor. "You hit the ground pretty hard, you may have a concussion..."

"I fell?" Mora echoed. "Happy bloody Christmas then..."

As the images hit her once again, Mora remembered exactly what had just happened. She had fainted, and another piece of her lost family had been revealed to her. But it wasn't filled with fear or hiding, there were no Death Eaters nor battles and tragedies. There was warmth, there was comfort, Christmas. Christmas with the Carteas.

And what struck Mora the strongest from all of it was the long, dreadful truth of it all. The memory had been beautiful, a small shimmer of hope that Mora's childhood had its share of happier times. But Mora realized how happy she truly had been, how she had been to young to realize how lucky she was, and how fast it would be until it was taken away from her. Until they were taken away from her.

She missed them. Her father, and her brothers, and Clara. She had so many questions that could never be answered, so many memories stolen from her for being a Temparious. What she wanted most in this world was to see them again, to remember every detail of their life together, to be a family again.

But Mora knew that could never happened. They were dead; fallen in the battle to keep Mora alive. And as Mora again gazed about the faces surrounding her, she felt the smallest feeling bubble inside of her. She had lost the Carteas, all far too young and innocent, but she had fallen into a new family. A new, odd, and as Sirius had put in, brilliantly dysfunctional family, who would stick together no matter.

Mora felt a small smile trickle over her face. She had found her Christmas after all.


	50. Promises, Promotions, and Paranoia

50. Promises, Promotions, and Paranoia

Mora crept along the hallway, her robe hanging loosely from her shoulders and a mug of hot chocolate grasped in her hand. It was only nine o'clock, far too early in this lazy household for anyone to be awake on a Saturday morning. The January wind battered the windows, and a chill creaked its way into the corridor, making Mora shiver. As she neared closer to her bedroom door, she heard a voice.

"I don't know if I can do it, Lil!" Emmeline's voice pleaded.

"Emmeline," Lily's calm, collective voice said. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes, of course!"

Curiosity rising inside her, Mora inched towards Emmeline's closed door. What in the world had Emmeline, lazy-arse extraordinaire, up so early? And why was Lily here? Mora pressed her ear against the wall, listening to the girls' heated discussion. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but Mora pushed her hesitations aside as Emmeline's distraught voice rung again.

"I mean, it's the job every girl dreams about," Emmeline went on, "I've worked so hard for this, Merlin knows if I deserve it or not..."

"You do deserve it, Emmy," Lily said. "You've been dreaming about this your whole life."

"I know!" Emmeline cried out. "I know! But if I were to take the job, then

I'd be leaving..."

_Leaving? _Mora's mind jumped. But what was going on? What job was she talking about, where was she going? Mora longed to knock down the door, to burst into the room and demand an explanation. Yet she stood, glued to her spot by the door, and simply listened on.

"I know I want this job more than anything. I mean, head fashion correspondent. It's perfect, but - no, no I can't do this. I can't leave you all!"

"Its New York City, Em, you're not dying or anything..."

_NEW YORK CITY?_ In the states? Emmeline was offered a job in the bloody United States of America? That was hundreds of miles away, no wonder she had such reservations on the subject. Mora felt a sudden tightness grip her chest. She couldn't imagine Emmeline moving out of the house, let alone moving to the other side of the world.

"I know, it's practically the fashion capital of the world," Emmeline hurried on, "And with a branch of the magazine moving out there, it's the opportunity of a lifetime."

A small silence stuck in the air, leaving Mora holding her breath. "Emmy, you've got to take the job."

"I know!" Emmeline huffed, her excitement evident in her voice. "I know," she dropped her tone, a touch of hopelessness creeping in, "It's just, I have a life here. You, and Mora, and those bloody Marauders. I mean, whose gonna keep those boys in line if I go? And I have the Order and everything, I can't just pack up and run, I've got a duty here. And then there's you, you'll be really big then. I can't leave when the baby's coming, I can't, I -"

"I'll miss you too, Em," Lily said, "We all will."

"I don't think I can do it, Lily," Emmeline's voice shuddered. "I'm so scared."

"And that's fine..."

'But I'm so excited! I mean, me, head fashion correspondent! I still can't believe it..."

"So, you're taking the job?" Lily prompted.

"Yes," Emmeline said, followed by Lily's squeal of happiness. "Yes, I'm doing this!"

"Oh Emmy, I'm so happy for you!"

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Mora fiddled with her fork anxiously, moving her peas around her plate absent mindedly. It had been weeks since the last time the four roommates sat down for dinner together, yet Emmeline insisted tonight they eat together. And Mora knew exactly why.

_She's telling us tonight_, Mora's thoughts screamed every so often, _She's telling us that she's leaving. _

"You know, Mora, those are for eating," Reamus instructed, looking down the girl's plate.

"Hmmm?" Mora said, her eyes still looming ahead of her.

"You okay in there?" Sirius asked as Mora blinked several times, trying to pull herself back into reality.

"Me? Fine, fine..." Mora said quickly. "Long day, is all."

"Today, you mean?" Emmeline laughed. "Didn't you just sit on your butt all day?"

"Which took a lot of energy," Mora said, "And patience. And lots of chocolate frogs."

"Busting out the chocolate, eh?" Reamus pondered, "Looks like somebody's depressed."

"I'm not depressed, Reamus," Mora sighed, her tone a bit too whimsical to be taken seriously.

"Depressed and shut up on a Saturday," Sirius said, "What did Prewett do this time?"

"First of all, I am _not_ depressed!" Mora groaned, "And second, this has nothing to do with Adam."

"He break up with you?"

"Sirius!" Emmeline scolded.

"No, Sirius, he didn't break up with me," Mora snapped.

The mention of Adam always seemed to do something to Sirius. The sound of his name caused Sirius's nose to wrinkle, his jaw to clench, his eyes to narrow into slits. He had a habit of dropping comments, all about Adam, all nasty, and all to Mora's face. For some reasons Mora was able to tolerate this abuse for two months, but as winter grew longer and Sirius' mood grew more foul, Mora found her patience thinning. She didn't understand this hostility, after all, Sirius hadn't even met Adam formally, he had no reason to be so negative.

Of course, Sirius did have reason to be protective of Mora.

"_What's the matter, Black?" Colton instigated, rather foolishly, as he swaggered to his feet. "Upset to see me get to her first?"_

_"YOU!"_

_Punch._

_"STUPID!"_

_Punch._

_"BASTARD!"_

_Punch._

Sirius had promised Mora after that day. He promised he would never let anyone hurt her again. And now Mora could see he was true to his vow, although the line between protective and over bearing had been horribly blurred. Something had changed in Sirius after that day in the Trophy Room. It had changed Mora as well, but made her much more cautious, timid even for some time. And now she had finally healed, moving on with her life, with a new career and even a boyfriend. Sirius, however, had not healed. 

Mora knew the only reason he was acting in such a manner was because he cared. Sirius would do anything for Mora, walk through fire, drag her home in a drunken state, bake her cookies (if you could even call those batter-monsters cookies) when she was home with the flu. But there was much, much more than simple, kind gestures. Mora knew if fate presented it, Sirius would throw himself in front of a train for Mora, as she would do for any of the Gryffindors.

Mora appreciated Sirius' actions, as she knew they came from good intentions. But she was resolved and certain that Sirius had over stepped his boundaries. She was dating Adam. Adam, not Colton! He wasn't like Colton in the slightest, save for their egos. But Adam was kind and gentle; he didn't live in order to help people. Colton was an opportunistic, consciousness rat. Adam would never hurt Mora as Colton had. Mora was sure of it.

"He shagging some hot nurse then?" Sirius added as Mora let her fork clatter to her plate.

"That's enough, Padfoot," Reamus warned.

"No, Sirius, he's not shagging with anyone," Mora said through gritted teeth, "He doesn't stoop to that level, not like you..."

"Enough you two!" Emmeline barked.

"You'd be surprised," Sirius carried on, "Guys like him tend to think with one thing, and one thing only. And I'm telling you, it's not his brain -"

"Guys like _you_, Sirius," Mora said. "Bloody hell, you've seen him what, twice? And already you're acting as if he's the dirt beneath your ruddy shoes!"

"I just don't think he's -"

"You don't know anything about him!"

"COOL IT!" Reamus bellowed. "Can we just have a nice meal, please?"

"Sorry," Mora apologized.

"Right then..." Sirius grumbled, refusing to look Reamus in the eye.

"Okay," Emmeline said, "Then with that, I guess I have something to tell you guys."

"Happy news I hope," Reamus said, causing Emmeline to grimace slightly.

"Bloody hell, please don't tell us you're pregnant too!" Sirius moaned. "I don't think we can handle any more babies around here..."

"Relax, there will be no baby Taylors running around for quite some time," Emmeline reassured. "Anyways, Witches Weekly is setting up a branch overseas in the states -"

_Oh Merlin_, Mora's thoughts panicked, _She's doing it now. Oh Merlin, I don't think I can handle this..._

" - so they've been shifting people around. You know, sending people over, bumping people up," Emmeline explained.

"You got a promotion?" Reamus asked, his eyes ablaze with excitement.

Mora felt something drop in the pit of her stomach as she looked at Reamus. He had fancied Emmeline for years, long before she arrived in Gryffindor. Hell, Reamus was in love with the girl, head-over-heels, scream if from the roof tops love, but he never had the courage to tell her. Reamus always claimed he was protecting her, keeping her as far away as possible from his, the monster. His lycanthropy already took so much out of Reamus, not only physically, but emotionally once a month, Reamus was an absolute wreck. Reamus would never want to expose Emmeline to his life as a werewolf.

He always feared she would get hurt, so instead of following his heart and telling her, he lived in silence. Every day, living beside her, watching her go through life, Mora knew Reamus was dying inside. To be so close to the thing he wanted most in this world, but to never let himself give into it.

Emmeline's face suddenly tensed. "Yeah, I did," she mumbled.

"That's brilliant!" Reamus beamed. "Congrats, Em!"

"What's the job?" Sirius asked. "Mora importantly, how's the pay?"

"The job, right." Emmeline breathed deeply. "It's head fashion correspondent..."

"That's incredible!"

"... In New York."

And the joy flooded out from Reamus' face, replaced with pure, undeniable grief.

"What?" Sirius echoed.

Emmeline cringed slightly, afraid her news was about to be taken rather badly. "New York," she said.

"In _America?_"

"No Sirius, the New York in ruddy Germany," Mora said, rolling her eyes as she turned her attention away from the Marauder. "Emmy, that's amazing!"

"You're not mad?" she said nervously.

"Of course not," Mora said, "Right guys?" she prompted, glaring at them for the standard, happy response.

"America..." Reamus said to himself, his eyes unresponsive.

"No way, Emm!" Sirius smiled, covering from Reamus' sudden comatose-like state. "But, you're leaving! Moving out, I mean, it's just so weird..."

"I know!" Emmeline said. "I'm gonna miss you guys so much!"

"But, you'll visit, right? I mean, for when James' and Lily's baby comes, and -"

"All the time," Emmeline assured. "I promise."

"When do you leave?" Reamus asked. Mora felt a flood of relief as the bookworm finally spoke up, yet her concern had not completely fallen. His tone was still laced with anguish, and his face looked as if he had just had the air punched out of him.

"Two weeks," Emmeline answered lightly.

"_Two weeks?_" Both Sirius and Mora called out.

"I've got in under control," Emmeline insisted, "The magazine's taken care of everything, they got me a flat out there and everything."

"So it's really happening then?" Mora whimpered. "Emmy?"

"Yeah Mora?" she smiled.

"Wanna take me with you?"

The table filled with laughter, even from Reamus. But Mora knew there was nothing she could do to brighten the situation. They all offered Emmeline their congratulations, smiled in her happiness, laughed in her excitement, but Mora knew better. She knew that night was not a joyous event. Her eyes trailed back to Reamus. He had plastered a small, meek smile upon his face, trying to mask his true feelings.

It was incredible to Mora. How Reamus could sit there, feeling as though he was crawling out of his skin, and look so calm. How he was ready to scream, to cry out in protest, yet he simply muttered his polite praises. How he was imploding inside, yet looked as if he were at perfect peace. It was truly remarkable.

And truly gut wrenching.


	51. A Bit Green

51. A Bit Green

She had heard the saying 'it takes a village to raise a child.' But Mora was certain it took that same village to kick that child out.

The Gryffindors ran about the house, packing and boxing all of Emmeline's things. Move out day surely was a bitter sweet thing, a time to say goodbye, to remember old times, and of course, to sweat over back-breaking labor.

"Where's the masking tape?" Mora asked dropping the heavier, cardboard box to the floor.

"I thought Moony had it," James said as he and Reamus heaved up a desk, moving towards the door carefully. "I don't know why you want to take this, Em, I'm sure they'll get you any furniture you want..."

"Sirius said I could take it!" Emmeline defended, handing Mora the masking tape she needed. "Besides, it'll be nice to have something from this old house in my new place. It'll make me feel at home."

"I'm telling you, you should just stick Sirius in your suitcase with you," Mora smiled as James, Reamus, and the desk slid out of the room. "That's a little bit of home I'd be glad to be rid of..."

"Things still shaky between you two?" Lily asked, perched happily atop Emmeline's bed.

As her belly grew larger and larger and her pregnancy progressed, Lily had been forced to refrain from the usual physical activity the Marauders were accustomed to. No running upstairs, no carrying heavy objects, no apparating, no death-defying battles against the Death Eaters of any kind. So, she simply watched the Gryffindors heave Emmeline's objects away, offering what Lily called "_moral support._ "

Mora sighed. "I just don't get it, you know? One minute we're fine, and the next we're screaming down each other's throats."

"His mood swings keep getting worse and worse," Emmeline said, helping Mora tape together a box labeled _Shoes. _She tucked the roll of tape beneath her arm as the finished.

"Sounds like he's the one who's pregnant," Lily mused. The three girls laughed, howling together as they had in the Gryffindor common room on some many occasions.

"Hope I'm not intruding or anything," Adam's voice greeted as he stood in the doorway. "I heard there were some more boxes up here?"

"More than a few," Lily sighed, motioning to the crates piled atop each other in a mountain of cardboard all labeled _Shoes_.

Mora smiled as Adam came to her side, planting a soft kiss upon her lips. A slew of people had come today to help Emmeline move her things out, including Mister and Missus Taylor, as well as Benjy and Rebecca Fenwick, and Loretta Bones. After all, with twenty crates of shoes, and countless others full of other accessories, Emmeline needed all the help in the world to schlep this stuff away.

"Bloody hell..." Adam sighed as he cast his eyes away from the boxes. "How you ladies holding up?"

"You know, all this spectating really takes the energy out of Lily," Emmeline sighed, making Lily blush slightly from her spot on the bed.

"Fine, let me make myself useful then," Lily sighed, straightening off the bed. "I'll go _supervise_ them downstairs."

"Merlin knows those boys need a little organization," Emmeline said as Lily slipped out into the hall.

"Well then!" Emmeline grinned, tossing the masking tape back to Mora, who barely caught it. It nearly tumbled out of Mora's hands as she squeaked with surprise. Adam chuckled lightly, wrapping his arm around Mora's waist. "I should be shoving off too; I've got er - packing to do!"

And with that, Emmeline hurried out of the room, giving Mora a private wink as she snuck away. Mora laughed to herself, always appreciative of Emmeline's kind shoves for Mora to have some alone time with her boyfriend.

"How goes the packing?" Adam asked as he faced Mora, playing with her hair absent mindedly.

"I never knew one girl could have so many pairs of bloody heels..." Mora grumbled. Her face softened a bit as she glanced around the room. Its bare walls and empty closet and dressers mad a sudden eeriness float inside of Mora. She plopped down onto the end of Emmeline's bed. "I still can't believe she's leaving..."

"I'm sorry, hun," Adam said as he sat beside her. "I know this is hard for you."

"It's just so weird," Mora echoed, "Seeing her go. I just never expected it."

"I remember when I left Hogwarts," Adam said, taking Mora's hand in his own. "We all just sort of separated. Sure, we kept touch through letters and what not, but really, we were never that close again. You've been so lucky, you all are more than just friends." Mora felt a bit of hope bubble inside her at Adam's words.

"Merlin, that made me feel so old," Adam mumbled, causing a giggle to surface from Mora. "You're all like a family. This distance isn't going to break you apart, I know it."

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make everything seem so bloody perfect?"

Adam leaned in close. "I'm actually a diabolical genius."

"Of course you are," Mora grinned as she closed the space between her and Adam, lost in another, deep kiss.

Footsteps clamored into the bedroom, and Mora practically jumped away from Adam, sliding to the other end of the bed.

"Erm, sorry..." a voice cringed.

zszszszszsz

"Bloody boxes, don't know why she has a ruddy million of them, bloody hell..." Sirius swore under his breath as he tottered towards the front door. The boxes were being lined up in the foyer, waiting for the moving truck to come and whisk them all away to Emmeline's new American homestead.

"Need a hand with that?" Adam asked, balancing his own crate of Emmeline's goods in one arm while offering the other to aid Sirius.

"Fine, thanks," Sirius muttered, refusing to acknowledge Adam's offer with more than a grunt.

"You sure?" Adam persisted, "You looked sort of -"

"I'm _fine_," Sirius snapped. His anger finally boiled over as he dumped his box atop the pile, the crash sounding as if he smashed something delicate.

"Easy there, mate!" James said, noticing Sirius' sudden hostility. "Funny, this box isn't labeled..."

"Lemme fix that," Sirius snickered, pulling out his wand. With a single swish through the air, a spell shot into the cardboard surface, leaving the words _Useless crap_ scorched on its side.

"Sirius!" Peter gasped, abandoning his post taping together boxes to view the spectacle.

"Adam," Reamus called from the opposite end of the room. "Can you go upstairs and help the girls? They're a few more boxes lying around..."

"Sure," Adam said as he dodged up the staircase, leaving Sirius bellow, mimicking Adam's last words with a sour expression

"Merlin, Sirius..." Reamus mumbled as Adam was safely out of earshot. "Could you have been more pig-headed?"

"Did you see him?" Sirius fumed, ignoring Reamus' reprimand. "As if I couldn't lift up a ruddy box on my one, Mister Big-Shot. With his bloody red hair blowing in the bloody wind -"

"You have a got a _serious_ problem, Padfoot," Peter sighed.

"Oh c'mon," Sirius said, "Tell me you don't think that guy is full of -"

"Now I think someone's looking a bit green," Reamus hinted.

"It's not me," Peter started horridly, "I didn't drink any milk today, with my allergies and all, so I'm not about to get sick or anything -"

"Not you, Wormtail!" James said, halting Peter's defensive rant. "Our dear Mister Black, however," He turned to Sirius, an eyebrow raised behind his glasses. "seems to be sporting a nasty case of jealousy."

"Me? Jealous?" Sirius scoffed. "Of what?"

Reamus nodded towards the staircase as Peter smack his forehead with his palm. "Of I-_that_?" Sirius said. "Oh please..."

"Are you kidding me?" Reamus said, "We can all see it. Hell, a bloody monkey could see it!"

"Please, why on earth would I be jealous of a fop like Prewett?"

"Let's see..." James started, "How about that brunette on his arm?"

Sirius felt his body suddenly grow rigid. Whenever the mention of Mora came about, he always had a much different reaction. It was like firewhiskey hitting him for the first time, numbing him to the rest of the world with the thought of her presence. But when anyone spoke of Mora and _him_ Sirius reacted a bit differently.

First, there were the remnants of shock. The very idea of Mora ever falling for a guy like _him_ still registered some red flags in Sirius' mind. Then, after the shock wore off, a wave of nausea hit Sirius. He found it absolutely sickening that someone like _him_ was with Mora, laughing with her, kissing her, touching her. And with those thoughts came the anger. The white hot, flaming anger than plagued every bit of Sirius' mind.

The very thought of Adam Prewett anywhere near Mora, his Mora, made Sirius want to wring Prewett's prissy little neck right then and there.

Was he jealous? Of course. Not of Prewett himself, Merlin no. Sirius thought Prewett was bleeding idiot who needed a good haircut, a ladies' man who was extremely less attractive and not nearly as charming as Sirius. Sirius had nothing to envy of Prewett the slime ball. But the fact that Prewett got to be with Mora made Sirius' skin crawl.

"Okay, okay," Sirius said, his tone defeated. "I'm so jealous I want to run up there right now and bust his bloody skull in."

"See? Doesn't telling the truth make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside?" Lily laughed as she wobbled down the stairs, Emmeline at her side.

"Need any of us up there?" Reamus asked.

"No, no," Emmeline smiled, "Just came down to give the lover birds a bit of alone time -"

"I'll be right back!" Sirius hurried out as he dashed up the stairs, disappearing before the Marauders could offer a word in protest. As he entered Emmeline's bedroom, Sirius had to stop himself from gagging.

He was kissing her.

He was kissing her right in front of Sirius.

He was kissing her and it made Sirius want to scream.

Sirius stood in the doorway, mute as he watch Mora and Prewett, locked in a kiss. It made his blood boil to watch them, to see Prewett do the one thing Sirius craved most in this world.

_I bet he doesn't even care..._ Sirius thought bitterly to himself. _She's just a piece of arm-candy for him, he doesn't give a damn about her..._

Sirius clenched his jaw shut. He always found ways to belittle Prewett's intentions with Mora, whatever they may actually be. To Sirius, Prewett would always be nothing more than spoiled, prissy, arrogant slime. Whether that was the truth or more so Sirius' bitterness creating a slight bias, Sirius did not know nor did he care.

He simply watched them, not in a creepy stalker fashion. He found himself stuck in the ajar doorway, mute as the couple remained oblivious to his presence. He wanted so much to be in Prewett's position this very second, to be holding Mora, comforting her, just being with her. To be able to kiss her, to tell her how much he loved her. To stop wasting his bloody time and watching his chances pass him by.

But Sirius could never do that now. No matter how much he wanted to, he could never tell Mora the truth. She was with Prewett, and much to Sirius' general disdain, he knew Mora generally liked him. She might even be falling for him at this point. Sirius knew Mora would stay faithful to Prewett, and even if he ever were to gain the courage to tell Mora how he felt. She would never leave Prewett for Sirius.

And it was ripping Sirius apart.

"Erm, sorry..." Sirius said, loud enough to reach Mora and Prewett in la-la land.

Mora pushed Prewett away, now leaving nearly a foot of space between them on the bed.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," Sirius added somewhat apologetically.

"No, no," Prewett said, "It's cool mate."

_I'm not your ruddy mate, _Sirius thought angrily.

"Er, well, Lil said we should start carting all these down," Sirius lied, motioning to the boxes.

"Right then," Mora hurried out as she bound off the bed. Grabbing a box with ease, she shuffled out of the room. As she passed Sirius, he could see her cheeks had flushed a bright shade of crimson.

"Really, sorry about that all," Sirius said again, his false sincerity masquerading as a genuine apology.

Prewett stood from the bed, shoving a box beneath one arm."I guess we'll just have to wait till we're alone tonight." He grinned, patting Sirius on the shoulder before sauntering out of the room.

Sirius felt as if smoke were about to pour from his ears. That was it. Nobody got to gloat about fooling around with Mora. _Nobody_. She wasn't just some piece of arse, some hussy guys like Prewett could woe and shag just like that. She was Mora, and Sirius would be damned if some git like Prewett treated her like that.

Adam Prewett was going down.


	52. Blame

52. Blame

"Tom, Tom! Could you slow down?" a girl called, her long, blonde hair flowing behind her as she stumbled across the grounds. The cold air nipped at the bare skin of her face, making her shudder as she braved the February wind. Her school uniform and cloak were hardly protection enough against the winter's deathly grasp over Hogwarts, but she pressed on, hurrying to keep up with the boy's pace.

"This way!" he smiled. He looked back to her shortly, his deep, dark eyes melting through her stony expression. Tom Riddle stopped suddenly.

"We're here," he said.

"Here?" Mora echoed, coming beside Tom. Taking her hand in his own, Tom lead Mora beneath a willow tree. It's branches stretched above their heads, offering the pair a bit of much needed seclusion. "And where exactly is here?" Mora asked.

But after a moment beneath the tree, Mora remembered. She remembered their last encounter here, the rain, the ring, his promise.

Gently, Tom placed a kiss upon Mora's lips, savoring the sweet euphoria of the embrace. "Happy one month," he beamed.

Mora felt a gawky grin over take her. It had been a month, thirty full days of this bliss. "Do you love me?" Tom asked, his hand cupping the side of Mora's face tenderly.

"Of course I do," Mora said.

"Promise me, Ra," Tom started, his eyes piercing into Mora's, making her feel as though he could feel her heart beat, hear her thoughts, share in this rush consuming her. "Promise me you'll always -"

"I promised you then, Tom," Mora said, lifting her hand interlocked with Tom's to his eye. The silver promise ring glistened in his eyes. "And I'll promise you again, and again, and again -"

His lips crashed over Mora's once more, and the two, hid away beneath the willow tree, were lost in each other's arms.

"MORA! MORA, WAKE UP!"

Grumbling in the dark, Mora shot out of bed. She could feel her brow covered in sweat as she recalled the surroundings of her bedroom. Mora whipped at her face shakily, heaving breath in and out at an erratic pace.

_Just a dream,_ Mora told herself. The image of Tom's eyes burned in her mind, refusing to yield to her whim. _Just another dream_, she repeated.

"MORA!"

Mora stumbled to the door, finding a very alarmed Reamus on the other side. "Get dressed, now!" Reamus said quickly.

"Reamus, what's going on?" Mora asked, starting to become less and less groggy.

"There was an ambush, they've burned down the Fenwick's house..."

Mora felt her heart lurch. "Is everyone okay?"

"I don't know," Reamus answered, "But the whole thing has blown up into a giant fight, we need to get over there now!"

zszszszszszszszszszs

The fire blazed against the dark, murky sky as Mora, Reamus, and Sirius apperated on the scene. They stood in a small, muggle neighborhood, with nearly identical houses lined up down the road. The picturesque extract of suburbia. But on this night the neighborhood looked anything but peaceful. The flames leapt from the roof to roof, bringing with them destruction and hysteria. Muggles raced through the streets as they escaped the inferno, clad in pajamas and expressions of horror, unknowingly stumbling upon the first battle of the New Year.

Mora had never seen something so brutal. It reminded her of the pictures she had seen in the Prophet last year when Emmeline's brother had been killed, but even those images seemed tame compared to this. It was as if hell had broken loose upon the earth, showing no mercy and taking no prisoners.

Death Eaters stretched as far as the eye could see. The daunting numbers of their troops made Mora gasp, she knew that night after being unceremoniously woken by Reamus there would be some sort of battle, but she never anticipated _this._ This was war, in its raw, merciless form. Chaos, terror, and blood.

"AVADA KEDAVERA!"

"Protego!" Mora shouted out about the battle's roar, just in time to save herself from the fatal curse.

"STUPEFY!" Reamus bellowed, sending three Death Eaters crashing to the asphalt of the street.

"Stay with me," Sirius said to Mora, taking hold of her elbow gently. "Whatever you do, don't -"

"_Crucio!_"

"SIRIUS!" Mora cried as Sirius dropped to the ground. He withered in pain, letting out a muffled scream. Mora remembered the Cruciatus Curse far too well from her memories, the sting, the agony, the feeling of being on the very brink of death.

Low, callous laughter filled Mora's ears. "Sweet little cousin don't wanna play?" a voice slithered, the high pitch and menace of it making for an odd, yet utterly terrifying combination. Behind the skeletal mask, the woman's eyes flashed to Mora. "You want a go, pet?"

"Experliarmes!" Mora cried, yet the Death Eater knocked the spell away with ease.

The Death Eater yawned widely. "That all you got, pet? Funny, I thought you Order folk wouldn't be so..._pathetic."_

"You're one to talk about pathetic, Trixie," Sirius snickered, risen to his feet and beside Mora once again.

"Don't you dare call me that, you filthy little traitor!" The woman hissed.

"Whatever you say, dear, dear Bellatrix," Sirius cantered on. "Tell me, how's Ruddy? Still -"

"Imobulous!" Bellatrix wailed. Before her could even react, the spell crashed into Sirius, rendering his entire body helpless to the curse. He stood motionless, like a statue, his arms extended and immobile.

"Looks like you deserve a little lesson, don't you, Sirius?" Bellatrix drawled, her wand now fixed upon Mora. "Let's start with your little girlfriend..."

"Incarcerous!" Mora shouted before the Death Eater could continue. The spell hit Bellatrix dead on, and a swell of ropes formed around her. Yet in one, swift fury, the ropes imploded, now nothing but heaps of twine at Bellatrix's feet.

"Girly's got claws, does she?" Bellatrix cackled. "Well I do too, pet..._Crucio!"_

Jumping away just in time, Mora dodged the curse, only to feel her ankle twist from beneath her. She crashed to the ground as she heard something in her leg snap.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Bellatrix chided, towering above Mora. Daringly the Death Eater ripped away her masked, revealing a regal, tormented face and mad, hungry eyes. "I want a better look at you for when you die."

"Bellatrix!" Sirius shouted, still frozen by the curse. "Bella, leave her, she's got nothing to do with -"

"She's opposing my master, isn't she?" Bellatrix barked, her eyes fixed upon Mora in a haunting stare. "She's got everything to do with it..."

"STUPEFY!"

The spell came soaring out of nowhere, skimming dangerously close to Bellatrix's head. Growling, she ducked away, giving Mora the chance to crawl to safety. Mora reached her wand as she saw a pair of twins circle Bellatrix, their flaming red hair and long, taut frames very familiar to Mora.

"Now Madame Lestrange," Fabian Prewett chided, his wand waving at the Death Eater's nose. "Trouble just seems to follow you, don't it?"

"Prewett," Bellatrix hissed, "I suggest you keep your nose in your own -"

"You happen to be threatening our dear cousin's girlfriend," Gideon interjected, "So, it does happen to involve us."

"Have it your way," Bellatrix smirked, a giggle forming in the back of her throat. "First you two, then the pretty little girl..."

"STUPEFY!"

Mora felt as if a knife had been thrusted into her back. The spell crashed into her, not from the Prewetts nor Bellatrix, but somewhere else in the battle. As she slipped into darkness, Mora could still feel the heat of the fires scorch her skin and the sound of her name being screamed out.

zszszszszszszszszszszsz

"Morning sunshine," Mora could hear Sirius' voice beckon as her eyes cracked open.

"Morning?" Mora mumbled, noting the darkness that poured into the windows of the living room. She found herself stretched out upon the sofa, a pillow perched beneath her head tenderly, and a blanket draped over her.

"Well, four a.m. to be exact," Sirius smiled, relief flooding his face, "But you know, early bird gets the worm and what not..."

"So I see you got out of that woman's body bind," Mora said, sitting up slightly as Sirius sat on the edge of the couch.

"Yes, dear Bellatrix Lestrange," Sirius sighed, "Formerly Black."

"Ouch..."

"As you can see, my good looks are _not_ genetic."

Mora laughed. The sight of the fearsome, vile Bellatrix Lestrange still etched in her mind. Mora knew Tom- Voldemort, had supporters by the hundreds, all willing to throw themself into battle for the cause. But never had Mora encountered a Death Eater with such zeal and passion for the kill. When Lestrange spoke of her master, it was if she worshiped the man, far more than just the leader of the army, but as a god.

Mora shuddered at the thought. She still could not think of Tom and Voldemort as one in the same. To her, Tom was lost in nineteen forty-five, his deep, brown eyes, his irresistible smile, and of course, his dark secrets and evil deeds. But Voldemort was a completely different beast. The crimson eyes, the deathly pale skin, the slits where a nose should be; that is, as Mora had heard, for she had never seen the man. The thought that Tom, _her_ Tom, had grown into such a villain, a man who commanded such loyalty and terror from his subjects, still eluded Mora.

"So what happened?" Mora asked, scratching the back of her neck. "I mean, after I got knocked out. Did we win?"

Sirius' face suddenly turned grim. "It feels like there are never winners in these things," he said solemnly, "But yes, eventually the Order was able to beat the Death Eaters back enough for them to retreat. But the causalities, Merlin..."

"Muggle or magical?" Mora asked, dreading any answer. For the lose of muggle or wizarding blood was equally as tragic.

"Both," Sirius replied.

"Sirius," Mora started, her voice turned grave, "Did we lose anyone?"

Sirius said nothing, instead he cast his eyes down upon his hands, winding his fingers together in a fist.

"Oh Merlin," Mora started, "Please don't tell me Reamus -"

"Reamus is fine!" Sirius assured instantly, "So is Peter. And James and Lily weren't there, so don't worry about them."

"Then who?"

Sirius averted his eyes again, this time focusing on the patterns of the carpet. "It wasn't your fault Mora, you have to believe me." His gray eyes jumped back to Mora, pleading with her. "It wasn't your fault."

"Who...?"

"Fabian and Gideon."

zszszszszszszszszszszszszszs

Mora knocked lightly upon the door, her plain, black skirt swaying slightly at her knees. Despite the unusual sunshine that early, January morning, Adam Prewett's flat seemed bleak and cold. Her thin, gray sweater proved to be flimsy against the flat's icy grasp.

Adam looked up from his mirror, where he had been adjusting his robes meticulously. His eyes looked tired, worn with the strain from the past few days. "You ready?" Mora asked lightly. His bedroom felt as if a window had been left open as a dark chill crept over Mora as she entered.

"Yes - well, kind of," Adam muttered out. "I don't know."

"Do you want me to...?" Mora started, motioning to the door.

"No, no." Adam shook his head, "Stay, please."

Mora obliged, shutting the door behind her as Adam slumped atop his bed. "Need anything?" Mora asked gently, still a generous distance away.

"Just stay here," Adam said.

Mora had expected this day to be grueling, yet she had not realized how miserably slow time would move. It was only nine in the morning, and Mora felt as if she had been locked in this day for ages. Fabian and Gideon's funeral was not for another hour, leaving Mora time to check up on her boyfriend.

One thing Mora understood was loss. She understood that hole left inside you when a loved one passed, as well as the hate burned alongside grief when they had been taken from this world without cause. She remembered every moment of it, the shock, the despair, the vengeance that stormed her as she watched the Carteas die. They fell at the hands of Death Eaters and even Tom himself, leaving Mora alone in this world to fend for herself, and to heal by herself.

Cautiously Mora sat beside Adam on the bed. She couldn't bear to watch Adam suffer this way, this silent self destruction, tormented silently while keeping up a strong and happy front for others. "Adam," she said slowly, yet his eyes remained on the floor. "About that night, the battle..."

Adam did nothing. He sat there, unflinching, staring down at his shoes in a glacial silence. Mora went on, her tone wavering slightly. "I never meant for, I didn't know...what I mean is, I..."

Slowly Adam's eyes lifted, meeting Mora's. Mora felt her guilt crash over her as she store into his blood shoot, broken eyes. "I didn't mean to get them killed," she said as an uncontrollable tear rolled over her cheek. "God, Adam, I'm so sorry, I.."

Gently Adam placed a hand on Mora's face, stroking the tear away. "This was not your fault, Mora," he said. "You're not to blame."

"They were defending me, Adam!" Mora protested, "Me! If I hadn't been there -"

"Then they would have died in some other battle, fighting for what they believed in," Adam reasoned, "Something I've been too much of a coward to do."

"I'm so sorry," Mora said again, her breathing labored. "I'm -"

Before she could apologize further, Adam leaned close, pressing his lips against Mora's tenderly. As they parted, Adam whispered, "Don't you dare apologize again, you hear?"

Mora laughed softly, a smile spreading across her tear soaked face. "Yes mum," she added.

"Thank you," Adam said.

"For what?"

Adam brushed a hand through Mora's brown curls. "For being amazing."

zszszszszszszszsz

The sky churned of murky, gray clouds. The weather had changed so suddenly, some fear it would downpour at any moment. Yet not even the rain could avert attention away from the somber occasion. Dozens of people formed a semi-circle within the cemetery, facing two holes in the mossy ground, like two scorch marks against a pure backdrop.

Two long, polished coffins were levitated into the air, each gracefully lowering into their respective holes. As Fabian and Gideon landed lightly in their final resting places, the pastor concluded, "May the grace of God be with us all. Go in peace."

Slowly people began to disperse. A light drizzle began to fall, yet Mora Ashford remained unmoved. She stood before the graves, her hand locked within Adam's. It seemed as though he were lost in time, staring down at the graves like a statue. Finally, he turned to Mora, as he revealed a small hint of a smile. "No giant bonfires and fireworks. The twins would've been ashamed."

Mora smiled gently. "That they would," she said, recalling the two's knack to create a scene.

"'Adam," a voice greeted.

"Professor Dumbledore," Adam replied as the man glided before the couple.

"Albus," Dumbledore corrected amiably, his eyes welling with sympathy "No need for formalities."

"Right Proff- er, Albus, I mean."

"I takes getting used to," Mora supplied, giving Adam's hand an extra squeeze.

"I'd just like to offer you my deepest sympathies," Dumbledore said, "We all loved Gideon and Fabian very much. Two of our finest fighters, not to mention our biggest wise crackers," he added, pride spreading through his voice.

"Thank you, Albus," Adam said. "Actually, there's something I want to talk to you about."

"Surely," Dumbledore said graciously.

"It's about the Order," Adam started. He grasped Mora's hand tightly. "I want in."


	53. Time Heals Everything

53. Time Heals Everything

It had been four months.

Four months since he sparked this fire. Four months since he infiltrated the ranks. Four months since his ambitions were noticed. Four months since he began his mission.

Colton Bayard slipped down the streets of Diagon Alley, the sharp March wind tearing through the few shoppers out and about. Hovering beneath a sign reading _Knockturn Alley_, Colton smirked as he slid down to the dark path. Colton's haggard appearance certainly blended in on Knockturn Alley. His skin faded to a pale, pasty glow, and his face appeared sullen, as if he had aged ten years in this short time. His honey eyes shrunk with a blood-shot glow.

Colton strode past the ominous shops, a newfound vigor in his step. As he walked further, a figure came into view. The man leaned against an ancient brick wall, adorned in a black cloak. He waited beside a door, checking his wrist watch with annoyance.

"I've been waiting," the man behind the cloak hissed.

Colton snorted. "Poor, poor Snape. Left in the cold all by his lonesome," he scoffed. "Whatever shall the big-bad Death Eater do?"

Forcing open the door, Severus ushered Colton inside, leading him to a cramped, dark room. A lone table stood surrounded by chairs, with a light hanging overhead. Severus mumbled under his breath as he and Colton took seats at opposite ends of the table. He pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing his long, hooked nose and sharp black eyes straining through the darkness.

"So then," Colton started, his arms folded upon the table's surface. "I suppose you have a message for me?"

"That I do," Severus said flatly, yet the chill in his voice soon melted away. "But first, how are you, Cole?"

"Fine, thanks," Colton snapped.

"It's clearly been affecting you, though," Severus said, "I mean, I've seen some lethal poisons do less damage than -"

"It's a price, Severus," Colton said. "A price I don't mind paying."

"You really think its worth it?" Severus rolled up the sleeve of his robes, revealing his Dark Mark. "_This_ is worth it?"

Colton's mouth nearly watered as he store down upon the brand. "You have no idea."

Severus shook his head as he retracted his wrist. "I don't get you, Cole."

"Most people don't. But enough with the formalities," Colton ordered. "Let's get on with it. You have a message for me. From whom?"

"The bloody Queen of England," Severus grumbled sarcastically. "Who do you think? My master."

"And?" Colton prompted shortly.

"He is satisfied with your work," Severus divulged, "With the Prewetts."

Colton felt himself smile triumphantly. "Go on."

Severus rolled his eyes, visibly irritated by Colton's arrogance. Colton chose to ignore this action. "He originally wanted your mission to end after their assassinations."

"And...?"

"I'm getting there!" Severus snapped. "Merlin, you haven't changed a bit since Hogwarts..."

Colton flinched. He dared not think about Hogwarts now. He had been on top of the world then. A pampered little prince of one of the most prominent pureblood families. The king of Slytherin. And how he fell; denied by Voldemort, thrown off his throne, nearly ruined by his own rash action.

_That_ was in the past. His future and his future alone was all that mattered, and that future lied with Voldemort.

"He wishes for you to stay in your current position," Severus instructed. "And to report back to me with any information of interest."

"And how do I do that?"

"We'll come to you," Severus instructed.

"And by _we_ you mean...?"

"The Dark Lord will not be paying you a personal visit, Cole," Severus said. "Not until something big."

Satisfied, Colton rose from his seat. Stopping before the door, Colton left his back to Severus. "Soon then."

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_...I'm so happy to hear everything's going well at ACE. Territory rights for goblins, eh? I honestly have no idea what that means, but good job getting it for them!_

_I hope I can come visit soon. Things are getting really hectic over here, with the first issue coming out in a few weeks. Crunch time, you know? So give everyone my love, especially the parents-to-be. A boy, eh? Lily was so excited when she wrote me, she said she went out a bought a bunch of blue little pj's. I wish I could have been there!_

_Oh, and could you tell Mora I said to go with the second one? I know, that sounds vague and all, but its for your birthday present so...surprise! And please remind her to keep me posted on all Adam-related news. Am I seriously the only one counting down the days until he puts a ring on her finger? I mean, it's been what, four months? Times a'wasting!_

_All my love, _

_Emmy_

Reamus let out a small chuckle as his eyes scanned over the parchment. He knew this was only a letter, a piece of fancy American stationary with a few words scribbled out in ink, but to him it felt like so much more. It was like he could hear Emmeline's voice in his ear, her laughter as she thought of Lily, her hint of sarcasm, her aggressive tendencies towards pushing Mora's relationship towards wedding bells. He could practically feel Emmeline beside him, the warmth that followed her, the flowery smell of her hair, the twinkle beneath her dark mahogany eyes.

Throughout the years, Emmeline's presence had a somewhat similar affect upon Reamus Lupin. When he found himself near the brunette of his dreams, an array of emotions swelled within him. There was fear, of course, of saying something wrong, doing something so bloody stupid he would come across as an idiot to her. There was anticipation, fueling the army of butterflies battering inside his stomach. There was excitement, electricity that flowed within him as the very sight of Emmeline.

And, of course, there was the emotion that blazed out over all others.

His never failing, iron clad, bloody frustrating self control.

He loved Emmeline. He wanted to just shout it out, to climb upon the tallest tower Hogwarts had to offer and just wait it out. His thoughts always found a way back to her. Emmeline was practically a part of him, a part he never wished to part with.

But Reamus was always able to give himself reasons to stay away. To stop him from ever divulging this dangerous truth to her. To _protect_ her.

Reamus Lupin was a werewolf. A full moon howling, fur sprouting, lethal werewolf. Reamus' lycanthropy plagued him in more ways than one. It was burden enough that once a month Reamus lost control. That his life, his values, his heart slipped way, shadowed by the feral tendencies of the wolf. He lost everything, and ever time he underwent the transformation, he feared the next morning he would awake to a new world. A world where his actions as the world had dire consequences; when it finally claimed the life of someone Reamus cared about.

_It won't let that happen, _Reamus would tell himself. _I won't let myself hurt anyone..._

But it had happened so many times in the past. Reamus could not count the scrapes, bruises, and even scares his friends wore; each a painful reminder of their devotion to him. They risked life and limb to keep Reamus under control, but how much longer could that truly last? How long until the wolf became truly unleashed, until it killed...

And whenever Reamus' thoughts would drift to Emmeline, he forced himself to think of the wolf. Think of losing control, the pure, unadulterated danger. And then to think of Emmeline caught in the middle of it.

Ruled by his fears, Reamus suffered in silent agony. His plight unnoticed and his love hidden. He kept it up for years, never giving into his feelings at Hogwarts, nor after their graduation. Reamus forced himself to live with Emmeline, to spend each and every day with her, and to never tell her the truth. It was excruciating.

_You have to do this_, Reamus would say. _You have to protect her._

Yet Reamus knew he would never intentionally hurt her. He loved Emmeline with every fiber of his being, how could that ever turn wrong?

_You're a werewolf!_ His guilt would scream. _A monster! A freak of nature who puts everyone he loves at constant risk. You could never do that to Emmy. To destroy her life like that._

And now she was gone.

Now Emmeline had sailed away. A new job, a new life, far off to the other side of the world. And Reamus had let her go. He watched her make plans, watched her pack - hell, he bloody helped her pack- and then he watched her march out the door. He did nothing to stop it.

Now four months had passed, four torture-ridden months. Sure, things were constantly changing within his friends. Lily was getting bigger by the day as she and James prepared for the baby. Peter, although seemingly unchanged as he continued to work at the family store and look after his mother, grew more sullen with each day. Mora and Lily made their first big step at the hospital, no longer interns but healers. Mora's escalating relationship with Adam Prewett left Sirius more envious, and the two roommate's relationship had turned suddenly sour. And of course, the five of them (save for Lily, considering he was pregnant and not in the midst of battle,) were still in constant struggle with the Death Eaters.

Yet the months had not been to kind to Reamus. Sleep had turned into a luxury, and a luxury Reamus was unaccustomed to at best. A certain spark seemed to fizzle away inside of him. He wasn't locked up in his room or anything, playing cheesy romantic records and moping. No, Reamus went through the motions of his life, went to work, spent time with his friends, fought for the Order as if everything was business as usual.

But Reamus knew he was far off from _business as usual._ Something was missing, broken beyond repair. A hole settled within Reamus' heart, and he exactly where it came from.

And at night, when he dreamed of her face, her laughter, her occasional pout, he felt that hole tug deeper and deeper.

zszszszszszszszszszszszszszsz

"I tell you for the last ruddy time, I DID!" Sirius boomed in the cramped corridor.

"And I'm telling you, YOU DIDN'T!" Mora shouted back. Even clad in pajamas, hair askew, and tooth brush held menacingly within her fist like a weapon, Mora felt a certain ferocity in this argument.

This was ridiculous. Mora knew that well. After all, this topic caused a lot of frustration between roommates, as it was a common grievance when member of the opposite sex lived together. But it should not have been the catalyst to yet another Ashford-Black screaming match.

Sirius stood beneath the doorframe of the bathroom, his arms crossed against his chest, and his snarl unmoved. Beyond him Mora could still spy the toilet seat up, the very cause of this latest blow out. Whether Sirius had put said seat down or not started as a simple, bitter remark. And now, the roommates found themselves in yet another heated fight.

"So what, you're telling me I imagined doing it then?" Sirius mocked, his gray eyes flaming with fury.

"No," Mora said through clenched teeth, "I'm telling you that you're a bloody liar."

Sirius laughed. "Of course. Cause Mora bloody Ashford can do no wrong..."

"Stop trying to change to subject!" Mora snapped. "Just admit you did it -"

"Not a chance."

"-Or get out of my way." But as Mora tried to push past Sirius to retreat inside the bathroom. Sirius pushed his arm across the entrance, resting it against the opposite end of the door frame. "Don't make me hex you out of here, Black."

"Like you could," Sirius scoffed. "You know, it's really annoying when females like you pretend to be -"

"AUGGGG!" Mora shouted. "Why do you do that! Why are you such a pig?"

"Cause I'm _male_," he stressed bitterly. "Every other guy feels the exact same way."

"Poor, thick headed Sirius," Mora tutted. "I hate to break it to you, but not every guy is such a narrow minded prick."

"Oh please. Such a bloody double standard," Sirius grumbled. "When a guy doesn't hold the door open for a girl, he's a prick. When he doesn't protect her from an on-coming cruciatious curse and get hit instead, he's a prick. But when a guy tries explaining this to a girl, he's a prick!"

Mora shook her head. She knew this conversation was no longer about any _guy _and _girl._ "I'm just as strong as you, Sirius. You know that."

"Of course I bloody know that!" Sirius snapped.

"So what the ruddy hell is wrong with you?"

Sirius mumbled to himself, his words meant for his own amusement. But Mora could hear the gist of them. "What was that?" she growled.

"Nothing," he muttered.

"No, Sirius," Mora demanded. "Say it. SAY IT!"

"I SAID!" Sirius shouted, "That I bet if Prewett had been the one telling you that you weren't as strong as him, you'd jump into bed with him."

The moment the last of Sirius' words rang out, Mora wrenched her fist back, letting it collide with Sirius' jaw. He stumbled backwards, his jaw revealing small drops of blood. Sirius looked back to Mora, the fury in his eyes smoldered away behind his sudden confusion.

"YOU GIT!" Mora screamed. Tears began to spurt from her eyes, yet she no longer cared. "YOU STUPID, STUPID GIT!"

Sirius did nothing, instead retreated a step back within the bathroom, still cradling his jaw. "How dare you!" Mora shouted on. "Why can't I get this through that thick skull of yours? I HAVE NOT SLEPT WITH ADAM!"

Sirius felt as if the wind had just been knocked out of him. "_What?_" he choked out.

"That's right," Mora carried on. Tears splashed down her face, and her eyes burned red from crying and anger. "I haven't shagged Adam! Happy now?"

"You-You haven't?" Sirius asked.

Of course, these are the words Sirius had dreamt of hearing. Of course, he loathed the very idea of Prewett even looking at Mora. The thought of them _dating _caused nausea to sweep over Sirius. And the fear of Prewett and Mora together like_...that_, was certainly his worst nightmare.

This wasn't just fueled by Sirius' jealousy. His pure, ranging envy of someone as unworthy as Adam Prewett. Prewett had the one thing in this world Sirius valued above all others; Mora's love. That is, he assumed so. They had been together for months, yet Sirius had never heard the two use the word _love._ Not when he stopped by the house, so unwelcome to Sirius, nor during Order hours, which again seemed extremely unwelcome to Sirius. He heard things like _I love spending time with you, _or _I really care about you_, but those three words Sirius dreaded the most had not yet been uttered. Which was a shred of small comfort Sirius hung onto.

But Sirius' animosity towards Prewett was not based in jealousy alone. The day they were moving Emmeline's things out of the house, and Prewett made one, awful joke, Sirius vowed to split him away from Mora at all costs. Sirius and convinced himself then that Prewett and Mora had already shagged, the thought of which absolutely crushed Sirius. It also sent a flame of anger raging through him. He joked about scoring with Mora. Mora, who had been hurt without reason beside her tie to Sirius. Mora, who deserved nothing but absolute happiness. Mora, who had nearly been raped.

Sirius pushed the thought Colton Bayard out of his mind. The one person Sirius hated more in this world than Prewett certainly had to be Bayard. But this wasn't about Colton, and Sirius refused to let himself be blinded by those memories at the moment.

Dragging himself back into the current moment, Sirius felt confusion take its immediate toll.

"What?" He managed to eventually say. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not ready!" Mora boomed."Because I'm not ready and Adam understands that!"

"You...you told him about Colton?"

_His_ name burned through Sirius' mouth, searing away at his bewilderment.

"I didn't have to," Mora said, using a hand to smear away vigorously at the tears staining her face. "All I had to say was I wasn't ready, and that was that. He's not like other guys. He understands - understands me! He's willing to wait for me."

Mora's calm explanations melted away, and the anger flared once again behind her pink-glazed eyes. "But _you,_" she seethed. "All you ever do is belittle Adam! He makes me happy, Sirius! He makes me feel...feel happy! Is this what you want, Sirius? Do you want to do this to me? To keep me miserable?"

"I'm just trying to protect you, Mora," Sirius said softly. "That's all I've ever done."

Mora shook her head. "Protect me," she echoed. "I'm a big girl, Sirius. I can protect myself. I have been for longer than you know, it's about time you give me some credit."

With this, Mora shoved Sirius one last time. As he crashed to the floor, Mora sped away, leaving the door the bathroom ajar. Sirius found himself sprawled across the icy cold tiles of the bathroom, the sound of Mora's bedroom door slamming sending another chill down his spine. For the first time in months, Sirius felt truly afraid. He had pushed Mora too far.


	54. Atonement

54. Atonement

Well, this wasn't going well.

Order business didn't usual entail such dull evenings. Sirius had grown so accustomed to the sudden explosions of it all, the battles springing out of nowhere, spur of the moment action. He found some strange comfort in the roar of the fight, spells firing from all directions, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. But now as he found himself amidst a much different scene, Sirius was horrified.

It was an average night, the kind of work most would be thankful from. A break from the usual danger, Sirius patrolled the streets of Diagon Alley along with an Order member, watching for signs of any ill-behavior. Night fell heavily upon the street, and the shops were cloaked with shadows. Not a sound echoed from any direction, except for the pair's footsteps pacing up and down the cobble stone-lined roads.

Sirius loathed patrolling - loathed it with a passion that could burn through any hatred he once held. It surpassed that of homework, Severus Snape and his goons, paperwork at the Auror Office, and even his prick of a younger brother. There were only two things in this world he hated more than patrolling. As he strolled sullenly down the roadside, Sirius felt like he was being useless. Here he was, pacing back and forth far, far away from any danger, while Death Eaters ran amuck across the country.

Of course, with thanks due for his never-failing string of bad luck, Sirius' evening was doomed to be even worse. The moment Sirius learned who his partner would be for the night's patrol, he knew he was cursed. Adam Prewett strode a few yards away from Sirius, his wand fixed at his side, his brown eyes looming off into the distance.

Sirius' hatred for Prewett - whether misplaced or not, Sirius no longer wondered nor cared - was only half of the evening's frustration. It was that every moment Sirius spent alongside the insufferable man, he thought of _her_.

It had been a week since the argument. A week of sheer, merciless torture for Sirius. Seven days came and went, and with each day, Mora's grudge remained unmoved. She would not look at nor speak to Sirius, she hardly acknowledged his existence. Time had proved to deepen this vendetta, and now when Sirius tried to apologize, Mora would stare straight through him, as if he weren't there at all. It killed Sirius every day to see Mora suffer with such anger, especially when it resulted from his own stupidity.

And of course, in true puppy-dog suit, Prewett picked up on Mora's icy demeanor towards Sirius. Although she refused to tell him exactly what transpired, Prewett knew enough: Sirius said or did something beyond reproach, and therefore it was Prewett's chivalrous duty to make Sirius pay for it.

Sirius knew he had to set things right. He couldn't bear to see Mora suffer, to see her move through the house like some kind of phantom. He had to apologize, to beg for forgiveness upon his knees if necessary. But with Mora pretending he was invisible, Sirius found this to be quite a challenge.

Taking a deep breath of the brisk, March air, Sirius knew what he had to do. In order to reach out to Mora, he'd have to go through the middle-man, even if he was a pompous little...

"Nice weather, huh?" Sirius began, his awkward, generic words causing no visible reaction from Prewett.

"Cold," Prewett said eventually, his stare still focused ahead of him as the two fell back into silence.

_Just spit it out already!_ Sirius' mind demanded.

"So, er," Sirius faltered slightly. "How's Mora?"

Prewett snorted. "You should know, you live with her."

"Well, we kinda haven't been, you know..." Sirius rambled on. "It's complicated, alright? Has she said anything about it? Anything about me?"

Prewett shook his head, the faintest trace of a laugh settling in his chest. "You know, I really don't get you, Sirius."

_Whatever you do, stay calm, Sirius..._

"...Mora used to say you were her best mate, and now..."

"Did she tell you what happened?" Sirius urged. "Did she -"

"She didn't have too," Prewett snapped. His head turned in Sirius' direction, his dark eyes burning with frustration. "I can see perfectly clear what's going on."

A lump rose in Sirius' throat. It was impossible. There was no way in a million years Prewett could know _that. _It had taken such a long time for Sirius to understand, it was ridiculous to think Prewett knew...

"I know you fancy her," he said coolly, "And it's clear you're pulling this bullock to -"

"I care about Mora, alright! I don't fancy her," Sirius lied. "I just don't want to see her get hurt by the likes of you."

"Funny thing for you to say," Prewett said, "Me, hurt her? I'm not the one who -"

"I screwed up," Sirius roared, "And I couldn't feel worse."

"Oh, I think you can," Prewett hissed.

Sirius sighed, the sound of his breathing the only thing filling the heated silence. "Look, I hate you, okay? I wish you'd fall off the face of the bloody earth. But I know that's not going to keep Mora away from you. For some reason, you seem to make her happy. And that's all I could ever want for her."

"So you'll back off?" Prewett noted skeptically.

"Completely," he said. "But could you...you could tell Mora something for me? Could you tell her I'm sorry, and I just want a chance to say that in person?"

Prewett's head turned back the road. His face read no emotion as Prewett answered, "Sure."

But Sirius could tell by the ice coating Prewett's words exactly what the healer meant.

_No way in hell._

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"You know you'll need to talk to him eventually," Lily chided as she slid out of her healer's robes, exposing the sweater pulled across her ever-growing belly.

Mora groaned as she forced open her locker in the hospital's changing room. "No I won't..." she grumbled.

"Mora, you live with him!" Lily reminded. Carefully she lowered herself to the bench cutting between the rows of lockers, her emerald eyes bearing up at Mora with deep concern.

"Doesn't mean a bloody thing," Mora noted. She shrugged her professional blue robe away, clenching it tightly within her fist.

"You can't go on avoiding him like this..."

"I can and I bloody right will!" Mora roared, slamming her locker shut. The sound of clashing metal rang through the empty changing room, vibrating off rows and rows of lockers.

The thought of Sirius Black had often spurred such reactions from Mora lately. Sudden mood swings, sour expressions, and the burning desire to pummel someone senselessly. The hostility between them had been fueling for weeks, yet their last blow out proved to be too much for Mora to handle. The argument had started as stupid, trivial spat over a bloody toilet seat, yet it soon exploded to something much more serious. It had been a week since the fight, and Mora could not find it in her to even speak to Sirius, let alone forgive him.

"I'm sorry," Mora eased instantly, "I didn't mean to shout. Did I...?"

"Will you stop worrying about me and the baby for a second?" Lily smiled, shaking her head. "And no, you didn't upset me. I'm fine, baby's fine. So knock that guilty look off your face, you hear?"

"Fine, fine," Mora said, slumping against her locker. "I just...you know, your healer's been pretty clear, we're not supposed to upset you, for the baby."

"I am willing to do whatever I have to so this baby will be happy and healthy," Lily started, "But you don't need to tip-toe around me like that. I'm not _that_ fragile. Anyways, this isn't about me. It's time we worry about you."

Mora sighed. "Do we have to?"

"Yes, yes we do," Lily dismissed. "Mora, he's your friend! One of your _best _friends, may I remind you."

"_Was,_" Mora muttered to herself.

"He feels awful, Mora," Lily said, pleading her friend's case. "It's killing him to see how badly he's hurt you. He just wants to -"

"_He_ just wants to tear apart my happiness," Mora snapped. "All he ever does is take shots at Adam, rag on him to his face! Meanwhile I've never said a word about Sirius and his endless track record of girl after girl. Where does he get off doing that?"

"He knows it was wrong -"

"Wrong? Lily, he went way too far!" Mora yelped. "He pulled my bloody sex-life into it!"

Lily sighed, wishing she could wipe away the tormented look upon Mora's face. "He cares, Mora. He convinced himself, he..." she trailed off.

"I know exactly what he was thinking," Mora fumed on. "All Adam wanted out of me was a good shag. Of course that's the only thought that ever crossed Sirius' bloody thick head! That all any guy could ever want out of a girl like me is..."

Mora's shouting subsided suddenly. She clenched her eyes shut, fighting to shake away the face that immediately blazed in her mind. His smirk, his cold, callous laugh, his twisted, honey eyes...

And Colton Bayard was still out there. Free, armed, and killing. The very thought of it sent flames leaping inside her chest.

"Why is it so impossible for him to understand?" Mora said, pressing two fingers to her temple in frustration. "That Adam would actually stay with me even though I won't put out. Merlin! It's bad enough that I'm nineteen and can't even be _that _intimate with my boyfriend - whom I've been with for months. But now I have Sirius breathing down my neck, reminding me that the world sees me as nothing but a piece of meat..."

Lily patted to the spot on the bench beside her. "Come here," she cooed, her voice like honey. Mora obliged, sinking beside the redhead with a small pout placed upon her lips. "I'm going to tell you something, and you have to promise me you'll listen, alright?"

"Alright," Mora agreed.

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever met."

Mora blinked. "See I knew pregnancy could make you crabby at times, but it didn't know it lead to stupidity..."

Lily swatted Mora on the shoulder. "You promised you'd take this seriously!"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry," Mora said. "Continuing singing my embellished praises."

Lily chuckled lightly, ignoring Mora's last comment. "Really, Mora. You're possibly the strongest woman I know. You wind up here, pulled out of your own time period, away from your family. And here you are, with your own life. After everything you've faced, Death Eaters, Voldemort, two temparis, Bayards, you're still fighting."

"So, this proves I enjoy a duel here and there," Mora gruffed. "Not much else."

"I'm getting there!" Lily affirmed. "You're so caring, more caring than you ought to be. For you, everyone and everything else always comes first. For Merlin's sake, you sacrificed yourself for a boy you didn't even know on your first battle!"

"You would have done the same-"

"Shh!" Lily commanded. "No comments from the peanut gallery!"

"Sorry..." Mora said lightly.

"There's so much to you, Mora, more than just a pretty face," Lily said. "You're truly remarkable. So don't you ever, _ever_ go on about how you're nothing but some piece of arse, you hear?"

"Yes, Lil," Mora agreed. "Still, it'd be nice if _certain_ people thought of me in that light..."

_Right_, Mora thought, _Certain gray-eyed, object of my secret affection, ignorantly sexist, arrogant, and infuriating people._

"Sirius adores you, Mora," Lily supplied, as if she could read Mora's thoughts. Mora made a small _hmph _sound.

"He does, Mora," Lily said. "Because everything I just told you, all of that, came from Sirius."

Mora felt rigid jaw loosen slight. "What?" she echoed.

_Him?_ Sirius Black? Of course Mora knew Sirius cared about her. He was, after all, one of her dearest friends. But she could feel their relationship peel away as the months passed, fight after fight, bit after bit. There were times Mora just wanted to wring the boy's arrogant little throat. To knock his stupid, egotistical skull in. To finally avenge all the rotten things that smeared from his mouth these past months.

Yet there were times, much different times, where Mora didn't dream of pummeling Sirius. She didn't fantasize of vengeance or rather rash, violent acts. Instead, her mind pulled her in a radically different direction. When she dreamed of jumping into his arms. Of staring deep inside his steely, gray eyes, and kissing those lips...

But in a matter of moments, Mora would shake these thoughts from her mind. _You can't _became daily supplements to these images, and soon, the same, firey anger would take control as another confrontation with the Black pushed Mora back to imagining a million different torture tactics.

Something had certainly changed between the two, and Mora now could identify this change to be Adam.

_Adam_. Sometimes it felt like the healer just fell into her life, and Mora thought he had been exactly what she needed. He was good to Mora, far too good. Every moment she spent with him, Adam made Mora feel like the luckiest girl alive. But even amidst their seemingly perfect relationship, Mora sensed things were a bit further off from picturesque than she first imagined. As Adam's feeling intensified for her and his passion grew, Mora felt different. It was like he was racing ahead, and Mora was left behind, crawling behind.

What had happened? Was Mora plagued by vision of the past? Did nightmares of Tom keep Mora from moving forward with Adam? Did memories of the two Bayards trap her inside her doubt? Or was it her exponentially growing crush for a certain roommate...

A roommate who was willing to do anything to tear them apart. Sirius was relenltess in his attempts to drive a wedge between Mora and Adam. Yet as Mora listened to Lily, and her heartfelt words - no, _his _words, she felt something change inside her.

"He bloody adores you!" Lily repeated emphatically. "Just to talk to him, alright?"

She sighed, bringing her palm to her forehead. "Okay," Mora said, giving in. "Okay, I'll do it."

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Mora trudged through the front door of the house, escaping the rain pelting mercilessly outside. As she pulled the door shut behind her, a familiar, guilt ridden face waited for her in the foyer. Sirius ran a hand through his black blades of hair, opening his mouth ready to apologize. "Mora," he started weakly. "I-"

Mora raised her hand, stopping the boy's apology. "You're stupid, I'm stupid, right?" she paraphrased. "Truce?"

Sirius' worried eyes eased instantly. "Truce," he smiled.

"Well, c'mon then," Mora laughed. "Hug me you idiot!"

Sirius embraced Mora instantly, a relieved grin spread from ear to ear.

"I'll never do that again, Mora," Sirius promised as he held her tightly. "Never."

"I know," Mora said, feeling something flutter inside her at Sirius' touch.

"No, I mean it this time." Sirius pulled away. Gently he took Mora's chin in his hand, melting away in the soft trance of her blue eyes. "Never again."

Mora let her fingers graze Sirius' hand. "I believe you, Sirius."


	55. Three Little Words

55. Three Little Words

"No, no, no, no, no!" James sounded, the ferocity of determination burning in his eyes.

"James Potter, you are being ridiculous," Lily retorted, her arms crossing over her swelling stomach.

James took his seat once more besides Lily on the sofa. He eyed her with a peculiar interest as he tried to control his temper. "There is no bloody way I'm going to name my first born child _Alfreda."_

"It's a family name!" Lily commented. "My Great Aunt Alfreda was a -"

"She was a right snob, may I remind you."

"You never even met her!"

"I didn't need to," James responded quickly, "Your dad gave me quite an earful..."

"Brilliant. Well then, when you and my father decide to give birth, you two can name the baby whatever you bloody well feel like," Lily fumed as her arms fell, fists clutching at her sides.

"It sure as hell won't be _Alfreda_."

"And what about your ideas, hmm?"

"I still think Spike -"

"We are not naming our daughter _that_!" Lily nearly shouted as her ears turned the slightest shade of red. "It's a baby, not some biker in a chain gang!"

"Then let's hope to Merlin it's a boy!" James snapped. "Maybe then we can just name it something simple. Like Joe, or Bob...maybe Frank? Ernest, Harry, Waldo -"

"Stop!" Lily commanded. "That one!"

"What, Waldo?" James asked. "Lil, I don't think we're going to be happy in three years running through the park asking '_Where's Waldo?'_ ..."

"No, not Waldo," Lily clarified quickly. She placed her hands on top of her belly gingerly. "Harry."

"Harry Potter," James echoed, a smile replacing his sour expression. He soothed his hand besides Lily's. "I could get used to that."

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"Well, that was..."

"Nauseating?" Mora answered as the two slumped into a vacant room. Saint Mungo's was busting from the seams, with more patients rushed in every other second. It was rare to find an empty patient's room about, and the two healers were quick to take advantage of it.

"Not to mention excruciating," Adam sighed as he slid down to the hospital bed.

"Honestly, I didn't know kids were so bloody stupid..."

"He was seven, Mora," Adam reminded. "He doesn't know how to control magic yet."

"But still!" Mora whined. "Boils all over the brother, the sister needed fifty seven stitches in her arse, and then the youngest -" Mora shuddered. "-Honestly, kids shouldn't be allowed anywhere near pointy, porcelain objects."

Adam patted his hand on the bed. "Come here," he cooed.

Still grumbling, Mora obliged, slipping into her boyfriend's arms. "It's been a rough week," Adam reasoned as he stroked Mora's curls. "We're all a bit..."

"Homicidal?"

"I was going to go with tense, but that works too," Adam smiled. He chuckled lightly, rocking Mora slightly with his laughter.

Mora turned on her side to face Adam as the redhead grinned slyly. "And what's so funny?"

"Your face," he teased as Mora pouted. Grabbing her chin gently, Adam pulled Mora close. "Gets me every time," he added before kissing her.

If Mora could ever reach perfection, this would probably be it. _This _was the way it should be. Relaxed, comfortable, and warm. Safe in Adam's arms. Mora never needed to try when she was with Adam. Everything was easy and natural. She could just have fun with him, with nothing to complicate it. No promise rings, no pureblood agenda, no basiliks, no secrets, no lies. There weren't deep proclamations of love, no schemes to rip them apart, no Jades or Eric or any Slytherin to make a mess of things. It was just Mora and Adam. It was safe.

Safe was exactly what Mora needed. She had enough on her plate as it was: the Order, the Death Eaters, her secret identity. She was sick of constant danger, of always looking over her shoulder. Adam was the complete opposite. He was predictable, always the charming, smooth young healer. A perfect constant for Mora's life.

Mora never wanted Adam to change. She wanted him to stay his perfectly predictable self forever. She didn't need another Tom; someone to declare his love to her over and over until he was blue in the face. Someone to lie to her, to kill for her. It was suffocating, and Mora knew she was nowhere near ready for that yet.

She knew that if Adam were to do something stupid, this could all fall apart. Her safety net could be yanked away the moment she needed it.

Their lips parted and Mora rested her head back on the coarse hospital pillow. Adam sighed softly, all the while staring straight into Mora's eyes. "Everything okay?" Mora asked instinctively.

"I just don't want to go back out there," he moaned. He let one of his fingers trace Mora's jaw line. "When everything is so perfect in here."

Mora couldn't help but smile. Perfect. Nothing could ruin this moment.

"Mora," Adam began, "I love you."

Except for that.

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"You did _what?_"

"Lil, I didn't know what to do!" Mora sighed hopelessly. "So I bolted."

"Did you say anything to him?" Lily asked from her seat at the kitchen table.

Mora groaned as she tore off her healer's robe. She let it fall to a crumbled blue heap upon the tiled floor. "Erm, well..."

"Mora," Lily said with a soft yet authoritative tone, "What did you say?"

"Thank you," Mora recited meekly, making Lily wince.

"Lil, it was awful! I mean, _thank you?_ My boyfriend of five months tells me he loves me for the first time, and I say _thank you!_"

"It's not that bad, Mora..." Lily tried reassuring.

"Yes it was," Mora cried as she slumped into a chair. She burrowed her head between her arms on the table's surface. "It was a bloody disaster!"

How had this happened? One second, things were great! Fun, easy, laid-back. The air had turned from playful to ...

"What happened next?" Lily asked gently as she stroked Mora's hair.

"I took off, abandoned my shift at the hospital, and sort of wound up at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Please don't tell me you tried to drink off your problems..."

Mora chuckled shortly. "A drunk Mora is a disaster-prone Mora. Remember the last time I got plastered? My lips managed to fall onto Sirius'," Mora reminded as she lifted her head. "I moped around there for an hour, then came here."

"So I'm guessing Adam didn't have a chance to -"

"He tried," Mora answered, "He chased me halfway through the ruddy hospital. Managed to lose him though."

"What do you think he'll do?"

"I haven't the slightest clue," Mora said. "He must be upset. I mean, he told me that he loved me, and I practically slapped him in the face. He's got to be angry."

"There's no way Adam could ever be mad at you," Lily reasoned. "You two haven't even had a real fight."

"Still, I've never taken his heart and ripped it into teeny, tiny shreds. Until now..."

"Mora, you didn't rip anything," Lily said firmly, leaning forward. "Adam may be hurting now, but I take it will take him less than a day to realize what's really going on."

Mora raised an eyebrow. "And that is...?"

"You're just not ready," Lily answered, "You're not ready, and that's okay, Mora. Really, it is."

'If it were okay it wouldn't make me feel so bloody miserable."

"Relationships have a tendency to do that," Lily smiled softly. "Mora, Adam will understand that you need more time. He'll forgive you; you just need to be able to forgive yourself."

Mora groaned instinctively. "I don't know if I can even face him, Lil."

Adam Prewett, the perfect, hunky, sunny-boy kind of guy. The average, safe, charming boyfriend, able to sweep Mora off her feet on a whim. Everything Mora wanted, needed. Adam Prewett was the whole package. Everything had been so natural, things just flowed. Mora didn't have to try when she was around Adam, she didn't have to worry about _love_ She was enjoying life, enjoying adulthood, enjoying Adam. She thought it had been the same for him.

But oh no, things were never the way Mora perceived them to be. Adam wanted much more than Mora's idea of a care-free romance. He wanted to give Mora more than a few laughs and memorable days, but the sun, and the moon, and the stars, and any other heavenly body divine enough to suffice for his love. He wanted more than a slew of fun times, but a future of Mora and only Mora. He wanted the things Mora dreaded most in the world. He wanted to tie her down, to suffocate her with love and passion and devotion.

And it would go sour. It always would...

Love was not in the cards for Mora Ashford-Cartea. It was the death of her. It was her love for Tom that lead to her downfall. Love blinded her to his true self. Love crippled her. Love let Tom lie to Mora time and time again. Love made Mora take a backseat as Tom transformed into a monster. It had all been there, right under Mora's nose, yet she could see her Tom, her perfect, loving Tom. The Tom who was willing to keep the earth from turning for Mora, who would jump through rings of fire if Mora had asked, the one guy who knew Mora better than she knew herself. Her first love; her _only _love.

For Mora, love was a mistake. A lethal mistake.

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The doorbell chimed through the dark house, its tones vibrating through the living room floor, up the soles of Mora's feet, and shaking her to her very core. This was the third time the bell had been rung, and the third time she refused to answer it. The third time she scurried across the wooden floor, only to stop dead in her tracks, then on to stumbling a pace back and forth with every conflicting thought.

"Mora?" Adam's voice called from outside the house, loud and clear. "Mora, please talk to me."

Mora cringed. Could she? Could she talk to Adam, face to face, without crumbling in front of him? How could she explain her reluctance to him? How could she every help Adam understand what she was feeling without talking about Tom? How could Mora keep her secret intact without breaking Adam's heart?

"Mora," he called again. "Please."

Mora bit her lip apprehensively as she crawled to the foyer. Taking on last breath, she twisted the door open. Adam stood upon her front steps, his face worn with concern, and his fine gray robes soaked by the afternoon's thunder storm. "Hey," he said, trying to be causal.

"Hey," Mora practically whispered.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, yeah sure." Mora held the door open wide enough as Adam slipped in. "So," she said awkwardly, "This weather, eh?"

"Mora," Adam cooed, closing the space between them in one long stride. "Mora, what I said - I wasn't trying to upset you."

"I know that, Adam," Mora answered.

"It just sort of happened," Adam hurried on, overlapping over Mora's words. "Everything felt right; _we_ feel right, Mora. It's like when I'm with you, the world stops. All that exists is us. I've never felt this way before."

Mora winced involuntarily. This was exactly what she was afraid of. Love. Commitment.

"...And I know I never want to feel any other way again." Adam noted Mora's mousy expression. Quickly he grasped her hand, placing it atop his chest. "We have fun, don't we?"

"Of course."

"And you like spending time with me?" he prompted.

"I love it, Adam," Mora said, before realizing she used the dreaded word. Quickly, words spilled out as she tried to do damage-control. "But I don't - I'm not... when I say _love_ I don't mean, I'm not ready - I..."

"I can see that now," Adam cooed. "I understand that you need to take things slow, you've told me before. If you're not ready, that's something I can accept." His fingers trailed to the sapphire necklace hanging from Mora's neck. "I'll just have to fight harder to make you fall in love with me."

"Adam," Mora started, "Me and love, it just doesn't fit, Adam. I can't -"

Of course she couldn't. Tom's face blazed in her mind; the smile that made her heart melt, the dark eyes that bore into her soul, and the blaze of determination he often wore. The face of her first love. The face of her last love. The face of a monster.

No, love was wrong. Wrong for Tom, wrong for Mora.

Yet a thought fell into Mora's mind, like an apple that finally snapped from a tree branch. What if this wasn't about Tom? What if this wasn't about what happened before, the murders, the lies, the destruction? What if this was solely about Adam?

Sure, Adam was great. A perfect catch. But was he really perfect for Mora? Could she see herself with him in a year? Ten years? The rest of her life? Could she imagine marrying Adam, promising to be his and only his until the day she died? Could she even imagine being _in love_ with him?

_No._

Mora loved spending time with Adam. Not Adam.

She loved the way he made her feel. Not Adam.

She loved the prospect of being occupied with something besides her lies. Not Adam.

She loved the idea of being wanted. Not Adam.

She didn't love Adam.

She would never love Adam.

She had to end this. Mora couldn't let this relationship go on any further while Adam developed these feelings. She would never feel the same, she would never use those three words that started this whole mess. Mora refused to use Adam, to lead him on and let him believe that one day she may love him back. She had to stop it now.

Mora bit her bottom lip as her eyes trailed back to Adam. "Just give me time, Mora," Adam said. "I promise you'll feel the same way I do, soon enough." He pulled her close, as if ready to kiss her. Mora nudged him away, taking a step back into the foyer.

"Adam, I can't," she said.

"Not now, but -"

"No, Adam. Not now, not ever."

Adam blinked back to her, his arms at his sides now. "I don't understand."

"You're a great guy," Mora started, fumbling over her words. She had only dumped someone once before, and she would rather not draw inspiration from that event. "Perfect. You've done so much for me, but I just don't see us going any further."

Adam shook his head, a smile reappearing on his face. "No, you can. You're just tired, and uspet, it's been a long day and all, you're not thinking clearly..."

"No, that's not it," Mora interjected. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Do you understand what you're saying?" Adam asked as he came forward a step. "Do you understand that you're breaking up with me?"

Mora gulped. "You don't need me, Adam..."

"That's bullock," he spat, with a new ferocity in his tone. "I need you, Mora. I need you every moment of the waking day -"

"And one day you'll find a girl who'll need you too," Mora said. "Who'll love you back. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if you find her tomorrow."

"There isn't going to be another girl," Adam stated. "There's only you."

Mora's hands reached behind her neck and unclasped her necklace as Adam watched in horror. Gently she pressed the sapphire jewel into his palm, and the chain thudded in his grasp with a small _pling_. "I'm sorry," she said weakly. "I can't."


	56. Special Delivery

56. Special Delivery

"I have a delivery for a Miss Ashford -"

With a groan o f exasperation, Mora slammed the front door, letting it crash in the innocent delivery boy's face mercilessly. Grumbling, she stomped out of the foyer.

"Mora...?" Remus called after the girl to no avail as she disappeared up the stairs. Shaking his head lightly, Remus returned to the front door, opening it to reveal the flustered delivery boy. "Sorry about that," Remus apologized.

"Er...right," the boy said, shoving an ornate bouquet of roses into Remus' grasp.

"How much do we owe you?" Remus asked as he fished inside his pocket for a spare knut.

"Paid in full," the boy assured. "You know, I was wondering why the other guys at the flouriest won't make this delivery, but now -"

"Thank you, and sorry again," Remus said quickly before closing the door. "Mora?" he called again as he crept up the stairs, balancing the exquisite flowers in one arm. Cautiously he tread into Mora's bedroom, spotting her pouting on the foot of her bed.

The sight of Mora's room stunned Remus. Flowers of every shape, color, and size covered every inch of the room, bouquets upon bouquets piling up. They were bound with ribbons, in vases, with cards, balloons, and even a few teddy bears here and there. Yet Mora fumed in the center of this beauty, as if the shower of gifts around her only heightened her rage.

"Special delivery," Remus smiled weakly as he stepped inside. He placed the newest batch of roses upon a small free space on her dresser as Mora groaned.

"Not another one..." Mora squeezed her eyes shut in misery.

"That bad, huh?" Remus said.

"Look around," Mora grumbled. "I'm in the middle of a bloody Valentine's Day from hell."

After two weeks, Adam Prewett's unfaltering antics finally managed to drive Mora insane. Mora's attempt at a clean-break with the healer did not go as well as she had planned, and Adam refused to let things end between them. At first, Adam would show up on their front porch, resilient in his attempts to win Mora back. Once she refused to see him after the fourth or fifth time, the deliveries started. Each day more and more packages would arrive, begging for Mora's attention. Despite the constant rejection, Adam could not be stopped.

Mora's bulwark of resolve started to crumble away with each of Adam's failed attempts. Mora cut off ties with Adam with strong intentions as she was determined that their relationship simply wasn't right. She didn't love him, nor would she ever love him. She knew the break up was the best possible solution for both of them, but Remus could see Mora regretted her decision. Adam had gotten under her skin, leaving Mora wanting to strangle him, run from him, and even jump back into his arms for the sake of ending this madness.

"Have you talked to him?" Remus asked.

"I can't do it, Remus," Mora sighed heavily. "When I tried talking to him, he just wouldn't listen. Now, I don't think I can even face him. I've been switching my shifts around at the hospital every day just to make sure I can avoid him."

"Mora, you can't let this control your life," Remus advised as he sat beside Mora. "Break-ups are awful, I know. We've all been there. But _this _has gotten way out of control..."

"Gee, I hadn't noticed," she mumbled sourly. "What else am I supposed to do? Talking to him isn't going to work. Unless I tell him what he wants to hear..."

"Do you want to get back together with him?"

Mora's hand rested above her brow as thought battled in her head. "Me and Adam...It was always fun, you know? And easy. But it's just not right, I guess. He loves me, and I'm just never going to get to that point with him. If I were to stay with him, I'd just be leading him on. It's better this way."

"You're a strong, strong woman, Mora. And stubborn as hell. I know you're not going to give into this," Remus assured. Mora rolled her eyes. "Even if you don't know it right now. Trust me, you'll get through this."

"Can't I just kill him?" Mora said. "Or maybe I can just move in with Emmy….. No, I don't even thinking going halfway across the world will stop Adam."

"He's that determined, eh?"

"That was one thing me and Adam really clicked on," Mora smiled weakly. "We're two of the most stubborn people alive. When he wants something, he'll stop the earth from turning to get it."

"You'll get through this, Mora," Remus repeated. "I know you can."

Mora smiled. "Thanks. You know, you're one of the only reasons I haven't taken off on a homicidal rampage by now."

"And I take pride in that," he added.

"Well," Mora started, "What the bloody hell do I do with all this crap?" she asked as she gestured widely around the room.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Ritual bonfire?"

"Not quite...but it sounds like a plan," Remus laughed.

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This was a bloody nightmare. It was like the brightly lit hallways and the neat, linoleum floors were Mora's prison cell, and the constant worry lurching in her stomach her own personal dementor. Saint Mungo's used to be the only place Mora felt truly safe, where she could control the situation. No Death Eaters, no temparis, no Tom Riddle, just patients, medicine, and healing. It was predictable, it was safe, and it was just what Mora needed.

But now, Mora found herself dodging behind desks, into broom closets, in and out of the throngs of patients; running for her life in her sanctuary. Mora came here for a little clarity. She wanted to do her job and nothing more. Not face her problems head on. Not take the bull by the horn. Not let Adam Prewett corner her in the heart of this madness.

She thought she had arranged her shift right. Six am to two pm, then she could safely escape home. Adam wasn't supposed to come in until three hours after she departed. Then why the bloody hell was he here now?

"Mora!" Adam called over the crowded corridor. With a flutter of panic building in her chest, Mora darted away. "Mora!"

A hand clamped upon her elbow, and Mora looked up in horror to see Adam towering beside her. She had no idea how Adam managed to catch up to her so fast, but here he was, about to force Mora to suffer yet another grueling hour. "Can we go somewhere more private?" Adam asked, his eyes swirling with grief and excitement at the same time.

"Adam, I have to get to work -"

"You can afford a ten-minute break," Adam interjected. "I'm sure you haven't taken one today."

"Adam -"

"Ten minutes, alright?" he insisted. Spying a dark patient's room, Adam guided Mora inside, releasing his light hold on her once he shut the door.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?"

"Just hear me out," Adam said.

"I already know what you're going to say!" Mora groaned. "You love me, you miss me, and I'm a bloody idiot for staying away."

"All except for the idiot part," Adam purred. "I like to call it a _lapse in judgment_."

"It's the right choice, Adam," Mora said. "For both of us."

Adam's lips pressed into a hard line. His eyes flashed with unexpected anger as he ripped his hand through his long, red hair. "And what about _my_ choice?" he started fervently. "What about what _I_ want?"

"Adam -"

"I make you happy, Mora," Adam carried on, "You can't deny that, can you?" he asked triumphantly."

"No, I can't," Mora said. "But it's not enough, Adam."

"Then what more do you want?" he rang out. "What can I do to give you enough? I've already told you I love you, I'm fighting like hell to keep you, what's next? Do you want me to put a ring on your finger?" His fingers laced around Mora's.

Mora dropped Adam's hand roughly. "Merlin, no!" she cried. "I don't want you to give me anything! I don't want you to fight for me, and I certainly don't want you to propose to me!"

"But you said -"

"What I meant," Mora continued, "That you making me happy isn't enough. The way I feel about you isn't strong enough, Adam. That's not going to change."

"Let me try," Adam started up again. "Let me try to show you -"

"No, Adam," Mora said strongly. "I've made up my mind. This is what's best for the both of us, whether you like it or not, and I'm sticking to it."

"This is about Black, isn't it?"

Mora felt her jaw snap open, hanging in a perfect "o" formation before clamping shut again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Adam said, a new, jeering tone to his voice. His eyes darkened menacingly at the mention of Sirius' name as Adam went on. "You and Sirius Black."

"There _is_ no me and Sirius Black!" Mora defended angrily. "We're roommates. Friends, nothing more."

True, Mora and Sirius were nothing more than friends who happened to live beneath the same roof. Who spent a majority of their days together, laughing, crying, screaming down the other until their throats went hoarse. Friends and nothing more.

Mora felt herself cringe up a bit. Mates only, a strictly platonic love, nothing more. The thought of it triggered a sting in Mora's chest. If only he noticed her, if only he knew how she really felt, if -

_Snap out of it!_ Mora commanded herself. _This is about you and Adam, and no one else!_

What was she doing? Letting Sirius consume her mind at a time like this. Here she was, trying to find a million different ways to convince Adam to leave her alone, tearing apart the healer's love into teeny, tiny pieces, all the while swooning at the thought of Sirius. She was breaking it off with Adam for the sole reason of not seeing a future for them, meanwhile he stood before her, with the world at his fingertips as he offered it selflessly to her. Yet she dreamed of Sirius! Sirius, even though Mora though he was a brash, self-centered, arrogant, prat, she wished he were her brash, self-centered, arrogant prat.

_Friends,_ she reminded herself. _And nothing more._

"Please, Mora," Adam scoffed darkly. "Everyone knows how Sirius fancies you. How he hangs on your every word. How he stares at you whenever he gets the chance, how -"

"What are you talking about?" Mora practically shouted. "Sirius has nothing to do with this, you paranoid little -"

"So that's it then," Adam laughed sourly. "You've left me for _Black_."

"No, you stupid, misogynistic pig!" Mora roared. "For one second, could you try to believe that I left you because of _you? _You and me, Adam, and that's it!"

"That's a load of bullock," he growled.

"THAT'S IT!" Mora roared, taking Adam by surprise. "I can't do this anymore! Stay away from me Adam, unless you want to end up in a body bag. I'm done! I can't handle you and your delirious little ideas about me and Sirius -"

"Delirious my arse..."

"Believe what you want, whatever," Mora mumbled as she marched past Adam, reaching for the door.

"If you walk out of here, don't expect me to follow you," Adam called.

Mora snorted, and without even a backwards glance, ripped the door open. In a moment of solitary triumph, she paraded out of the room and slammed the door behind her, leaving Adam alone in the darkness.

As the door to the hospital room slammed shut, Adam Prewett felt a new fire leap within his chest. With all his might, he ripped his hand through the air, crashing it deafeningly into the wall beside him. It collided with a bang, and Adam ignored the burning throb growing in his fingers. All he wanted was to do it again, to pound upon the walls until his fingers bleed and splintered apart. He wanted to scream; to rip something apart, just _anything _to get this feeling out of his system.

_You and me Adam, and that's it!_

Bullock! Complete, utter bullock!

Mora didn't just wake up one day and think 'Gee, I just don't love Adam, even though he makes me the happiest I've ever been' : that Adam knew for sure. She didn't come up this break-up thing on her own accord. After all, he was Adam bloody Prewett! Rich, charming, and everything a girl could ever want. A million girls would kill to fill Mora's shoes, to be with Adam for even a day.

And here, like a total fool, was Adam, ready to get on his hands and knees to beg Mora to stay with him. Wasn't he above that? Apparently not. He was willing to propose marriage to the girl just to keep her with him! Adam Prewett, while his ego damaged, his self-esteem blistered, and his mind swarming, was sure of one thing: he needed to take control or he was going to lose it.

It was all because of _him_. That arrogant, sniveling little slime ball! _He_ had ruined everything. The moment that git stuck his nose into Prewett's perfection, taking his Mora away and leaving him alone and humiliated, _he_ had crossed the line. Adam Prewett was nobody's fool, and he would never let someone as daft as _him_ destroy everything he worked so hard to build.

Even though he felt everything fall apart, though Mora had yet again walked out on him, though he failed time after time again, Adam was sure of one thing.

Sirius Black was going to pay.

_But I know that's not going to keep Mora away from you. For some reason, you seem to make her happy. And that's all I could ever want for her..._

Lies, lies, _lies_!

Adam sneered at the reminder of Black's words. Adam knew it from the start, from the day he met the insolent boy, Sirius Black was manipulative. And after months of work with the Order, of run in time and time again with the pest, Adam could see Black would do anything to have Mora. He fancied her - hell, he _loved _her, body and soul. It disgusted Adam.

_Stay away from me Adam, unless you want to end up in a body bag. I'm done! I can't handle you, and your delirious little ideas about me and Sirius..._

Had he not given Mora everything she ever wanted? Flowers, gifts, jewls? Didn't Adam show Mora what a life she could lead with him? Had he not given her love? Had he given her any reason _not _to fall head over heels for him? Was he not the picture of paradise Mora had been dreaming of?

What did Black have the Adam didn't? Sleazy pick up lines, bullock Black used to pick up girls all the time; A run down, abandoned mansion on the corner of town that he shared with her and a werewolf; Cheap sarcasm and the title that he, the _daring _and _rebellious _Sirius Black, refused to join the Death Eaters as the other Blacks had. What was all of that compared to what Adam had?

Adam Prewett; dashing, powerful , and a man on a mission, ousted by Black? Not in a million years. No one stole from Adam Prewett. _No one._

Sirius Black was going to pay.


	57. Far from Perfect

**AN: Odd, right? I've never done an author's note...silly, silly me...**

**So... hey everybody! Thanks for stoppin' by and reading my lil old story! Since I haven't had a chance to say this yet, you all happen to be the best group of readers a lady on fanfic could ask for =] Your reviews are always greatly, greatly appreciated! Also, if you have any questions/comments/burning concerns/whimsical musings or what have you, you can always shoot me a message as well. **

**Now with that, sit back and enjoy chapter 57! **

* * *

57. Far from Perfect

"Stupid, stupid, immature little -"

"Mora...?"

"Insecure, hypocritical, sexist, self-absorbed-"

"Mora, don't you think...?"

"Stupid-" Mora snarled as she punched another blow into the teddy bear. "Adam-" Punch. "Prewett-" Punch.

"Okay then," Sirius sighed as he tried to pry the bear from Mora's fist. "We'll just take this away…..."

Ripping her wand out from her back jeans pocket, Mora snickered towards the bear. "Reducto!" The bear's head exploded, leaving stuffing and fuzz whirling through the sky to decorate the cluttered living room. Mora stared in triumph at the decapitated toy.

"Right, well," Sirius suppressed a smile, "That was very mature."

"Better the bear than Adam himself, right?" Mora grumbled as she tossed the lifeless toy over her shoulder.

_Actually, I would have preferred Prewett_, Sirius thought bitterly.

Apparently, Adam Prewett, despite his fancy Ravenclaw education and his years of being a successful healer, just couldn't grasp the concept of _no_. The idea that Mora could dump because he was a selfish, stupid prick was beyond Prewett. Instead of drowning Mora in unwanted gifts and praises, now Prewett withdrew. Hopefully once and for all, Adam Prewett would stay far away from her. It had only been a few days, but there had been no unwelcome greetings or gifts from Prewett, nor had he even spoken to Mora.

If everything were to go Sirius' way, Prewett would have fallen off the face of the earth by now. He would be far away from the Order and Saint Mungo's, leaving no unpleasant reminders of himself that would lead Mora to an episode like this one, taking out her anger by pummeling a teddy bear. But, of course, Prewett wasn't about to go anywhere. Now, instead of chasing Mora, Prewett turned his attention to Sirius.

Sirius couldn't help but feel a glimmer of pride when he thought of Prewett's jealously. Prewett's obsessive conclusion that Sirius was the root of his split with Mora surely boosted the Marauder's ego in some ways. Of course, Sirius knew this conclusion not to be true, as Mora could never seem to love Prewett the way he loved her. But the one thing Sirius wanted almost as much as being with Mora, was the triumph of rubbing Prewett's agony in the redhead's smug, pristine face.

Sirius groaned slightly as the new scrape over his face stung. Prewett was calculating, Sirius was sure of that. And he was no sore loser. In Prewett's mind, as Sirius had won Mora away from him, Sirius became public enemy number one. Prewett interaction with Sirius on a daily basis was minimal, yet he always found a way to turn it for his own revenge.

That day at Order practice was no different. It had been typical dueling training, Order recruit versus Order recruit. Sirius had not even been paired up with Prewett, yet somehow the healer's brutal hex just _happened _to strike Sirius square in the face.

Noticing Sirius' wince, Mora's face flushed with concern. "Are you alright? Do you need -"

"Fine, fine," Sirius insisted quickly. "Just a scrape, eh?"

"Hmmf," Mora snorted. "Right, the sort that is intolerable to all the healing spells and potions I have in the ruddy house. A _scrape_."

"Its fine," Sirius said again, forcing a smile. "I'm fine."

"I'll kill him," Mora fumed. "I swear to Merlin, I'll murder him..."

"Trust me, Mora, I'm _fine _-"

"He went too far, Sirius," Mora snapped. "I knew he was delusional, but _this _crossed the line."

"Look, hello!" Sirius called, waving his arms before Mora's enraged face. "I'm fine, see? Alive, breathing and all..."

"If that curse hit you in the wrong spot, you could have been really hurt," Mora said, "He could have paralyzed you."

A chill spread over Sirius at the thought. "Well, he didn't."

"He _could _have -"

"He _could _have done a million things," Sirius countered. "But he's not bloody Voldemort..."

Mora's face dropped instantly, and an unreadable fog covered her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Sirius apologized instantly, with Mora's words from their evening in the Potter's living room echoing in his ears.

_They were murdered, my sister and my two brothers, by the Death Eaters. Then Voldemort killed my father more than two years ago..._

"I'm sorry," he repeated worriedly, "I didn't mean..."

"It's okay," Mora said, "Sorry, I usually don't get like that. It was a long time ago, I should have moved on by now."

"Don't be sorry," Sirius assured, instinctively slipping his hand into Mora's. She squeezed it affectionately and a small smile passed over her lips.

A million feelings rushed through Sirius, each pulsing from the touch of Mora's fingertips against his own. Usually Sirius was better at suppressing these emotions, but today was different. He couldn't push down the admiration swelling inside him, the awe he felt as he stared into Mora's brilliant blue eyes, the excitement that erupted when she came close, the pain that stung him as he remembered his unrequited love. It would take every bit of self control Sirius possessed to choke down these feelings. Every day he went through life with Mora, maintaining the standard room-mate relationship without revealing anything deeper. It was exhausting.

But today, something was different. The part of his brain that usually told Sirius to control himself was silenced, and any fear of ramifications vanished. All Sirius could see was Mora. He didn't care that this wasn't the right time, nor did he care that Mora would probably punch him in the face. He couldn't remember where they were, about Prewett, or anything else that consumed their attention before. Before he could think, before he could reason with himself, and before he could realize what he was doing, Sirius went for it.

Sirius wrapped his free hand around Mora's neck, pulling her dangerously close. Before she could say a word, Sirius let his lips overtake her own. The effect was intoxicating. Sirius couldn't think, Sirius couldn't breathe; all he could do was kiss her.

As their lips broke apart, Mora nudged Sirius away and jumped off the sofa. "Sirius!" she cried out. "Sirius, _what are you doing?_"

Sirius could not suppress his glee as a grin broke. The last time he had kissed Mora, she had been piss drunk and flung herself at him. That was not something Sirius wanted to remember. But _this _was much more. This had been a complete accident; an impulsive whim that Sirius expected would land him with a black eye. But something happened despite his expectations. Something...

"_Sirius!_" Mora cried out at the sight of Marauder's smile. "Sirius, this is _not _funny!"

"Right, sorry," Sirius said, still chuckling.

"What did you do that for?" Mora started, "You, and me - and that - what were you - I - it..." Mora rambled on. "Oh forget it! Just kiss me!"

Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, Mora crashed her mouth to Sirius'. Yes, Sirius knew _this _kiss was a hundred bloody percent better than the other one. This wasn't an accident, this wasn't a drunken impulse, this wasn't a booze-impaired judgment. Sirius knew Mora had been kissing him back. And now she initiated another one! Sirius was on top of the world, and nothing could spoil this moment...

Mora pulled away forcefully. "No..." She shook her head back and forth with a troubled expression. "No, I can't -we, this - it was, no - wrong, no, no, no..."

"Easy hun," Sirius smiled, rising to his feet to meet Mora. "Don't hurt yourself."

"I'll hurt _you!_" she warned. Her blue eyes burned with an intoxicating fury. "I'll kill you! What the bloody hell were you thinking!"

"I, well..." Sirius said, taking a step closer. "I can say the same thing for you. But I thought I was being bloody obvious about it. I love you, Mora."

"_What?_" Mora looked as if the wind had been knocked out of her; her face flushed, her eyes bulged, and her expression bewildered. "Are you mocking me, Sirius?"

"I'd rather die," he defended, unable to rid the euphoric edge from his voice. "I love you, Mora. I always have."

"Sirius..." Mora groaned, stumbling back. The realization of Sirius' words began to set in, and Mora's jaw nearly hung open with shock. "Why? Why me?"

"Because you're brilliant, Mora," Sirius said. "You're perfect -"

"Perfect? Are you bloody insane?" Mora interjected. She rose a hand to her face shakily. "I'm all wrong for this. I'm stubborn, I'm impulsive, I tend to fall into life-or-death situations on a daily basis. I'm not the kind of girl you go after, Sirius. I'm not tall and have flawless skin and drop-dead looks. I'm far from perfect. The farthest."

"Well so am I," he assured. "But you're perfect for me, Mora. In every way. I l-"

"Don't say it!" Mora commanded, raising a hand to stop the word. "Sirius, you know what's happening with me right now. I can't, I mean..._love_? How can I say that to you when I ended things with Adam because I couldn't love him?"

"I know I'm nothing like Prew- Adam," Sirius said, holding back a grimace at the sound of the red-headed git's name.

"Well good, Merlin knows the world doesn't need any more of those," Mora mumbled unintelligibly as she slumped down to the couch.

"Sirius..." she started again, "Me and love...it's wrong. It's dangerous -"

"Then I'm willing to take that risk," Sirius smiled as he sat beside her.

"No, you're not!" she barked, jumping to her feet once more. "You don't understand..."

"I do," Sirius said strongly, taking both of Mora's hands in his own. "I love you, Mora. Me, Sirius Black, the Gryffindor joke, is madly, head-over-heels, whipped, and crazy for you. And I know you love me to."

"I do _not!_" Mora declared as she dropped Sirius' hands.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he laughed, not at all scathed by her rejection. "So that second kiss was...?"

Mora's cheeks grew scarlet. "I just, got caught up in the moment, is all."

"Right, well, when you're ready to admit your feelings -"

"There are no feelings!" Mora hissed.

"- I'll be at the ministry," Sirius finished. "Sure you won't give me a kiss for the road?"

Mora crossed her arms stiffly. "This is all some big joke to you, isn't it?"

Sirius' face grew suddenly serious as he stood from the sofa. "Far from it. I love you, Mora. I've said it a hundred bloody times, and I'll say another hundred bloody times until you believe me. You're all that matters to me, and I'm not about to let you run away from this."

"It's not love, Sirius. It's, an infatuation," Mora concluded. "You'll get over it."

Slowly, Sirius made his way towards the door. "Tried that," he called back to her. "Not gonna happen. This is the real thing, Mora, whether you like it or not."

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As Mora stormed through the door to the Potter's home, Lily was waiting, perched on their long, cream-white sofa with an eager look on her face. "So..." Lily greeted, holding back what Mora predicted to be a squeal.

"Don't tell me you're in on this too..." Mora groaned as she shut the door behind her.

"Why would you say that?" she asked craftily.

"That fact that you look like you're about to explode; and that's _not _a baby-related explosion."

Lily's grin doubled. "He told James before they left for work."

"And I hope James smacked him in the mouth..." Mora mumbled.

"Are you kidding? The only other time James looked so proud was when we found out we were pregnant!"

Mora groaned loudly, falling onto a love-seat sofa near Lily. "I swear to Merlin, I'll kill him..."

"And may I ask what's got you -"

"How about the fact that Sirius ruddy Black told me he's _in love_ with me!" Mora nearly shouted.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Lily reminded, with her usual, matronly tone, "But haven't you fancied Sirius for a few months now?"

Mora pinched her eyes shut, sighing back into the sofa. Yes, she had fancied Sirius. Fancied him against her will, against her sense of reason, and against her every bit of her moral fiber. Fancied him while they lived together, worked together, and fought together. Fancied him while she was with Adam. Fancied him while it grew into something more...

_No_. She would not say it. She did not love Sirius. She couldn't.

Right?

"Lil, I broke things off with Adam because I couldn't love him," Mora said. "Honestly, how could I possibly start something with Sirius right after that? It's so bloody hypocritical."

"It's only hypocritical if you were warding off love altogether," Lily reasoned, "But that wasn't the case. You couldn't be _in love_ with Adam. But being in love with Sirius is a different story..."

"I'm nowhere near ready to say I'm _in love _with him!" Mora snapped. "Merlin, I'm still fighting the urge to strangle the boy to death."

"But you do have feelings for him!" Lily concluded triumphantly.

Mora groaned, slinking in her seat. "YES!" she surrendered. "Yes, I bloody fancy Sirius Black! Okay, I haven't stopped thinking about him in weeks! I FANCY HIM!

"But...love?" Mora's tone softened. "I can't..."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't."

"Moa, that's not a reason."

Mora combed a shaky hand through her hair. "You know the reason..."

"Feeling guilty about not loving Adam shouldn't stop you from -"

"Not Adam, Lily." Mora felt a chill snake up her spine. "It's _him_."

There was silence.

"You mean Tom Riddle, don't you?"

Mora could hardly suppress a sour chuckle. Of course it was Tom Riddle. The boy, the man, the monster. The one who gave Mora so much, only to rip the world from under her feet. The reason Mora's family was gone. The reason they were fighting a war. The reason for all of this insanity.

Mora thought she was over him. She thought every trace of Tom Riddle was gone from her life; the memories, the attachment, the fear, the hate. She thought being with Adam helped her finally move on. She thought it was over.

"It was real, Lily," Mora said. "It was so real with him. It was like every day, I was on fire. Us against the world, you know? Even though he was Tom - _my _Tom - Voldemort was already inside of him. He was always there, I was just too bloody in love to see it.

"I was with him for months," Mora carried on as she stood from her seat. She began to pace the room frantically, unable to sit still. "While he was trying to kill muggle-borns, while he _did_ kill one. The man who would become my father's murderer was right in front of me, and _I loved him_!"

"It makes perfect sense for you to still feel this way, Mora," Lily soothed. "You were betrayed, in the worst way. But that doesn't mean that with Sirius -"

"When I fall in love, people die!" Mora snapped. A warm streak of tears flew down her cheek. "Love is lethal with me, Lily. I know you're going to tell me about you and James and your perfect life together, but that will never happen for me. It's toxic, it's blinding, and it puts everything I care about at risk."

"So you're willing to give up your chance at happiness?" Lily prompted sharply. "To pass up on someone who could quite possibly be the love of your life?"

_I do not love Sirius, _Mora's thoughts asserted instantly. _And he most certainly is not the love of my life. __I could never, ever love him! Ever!_

...Right?

Mora shook her head. "I thought I had that once, you know. And all it turned out to be was lies, on top of lies, on top of lies. Because I loved Tom, because I showed him that he can be good and have a soul, my family was slaughtered! And you know what's going to happen when he finally finds me? He's going to come after me be attacking the people I care about; you, James, Remus, all of you."

"We can protect ourselves -"

"And if I were to ever be with Sirius," Mora finalized, "And Tom found me..."

Lily's eyes gazed knowingly as lightly she reached for Mora's hand. Shakily, Mora took it as Lily guided her to sit next to her on the sofa. "You think Tom would kill Sirius, don't you?"

"Kill? He'll kill us all. But Sirius," Mora felt her throat grow dry, "Voldemort would destroy him. Slowly, painfully." A new batch of tears sprang in Mora's eyes. "I could never let that happen..."

"Were you afraid of this when you were with Adam?"

"All the time, but I knew Adam really wasn't at more risk than everyone else," Mora said. "I cared about him, but I never loved him. That would be his saving breath - Well, maybe _saving_ is the wrong word, seeing that everyone affiliated with me would wind up dead..."

"And Sirius...?"

"I'll never let it happen," Mora said. "Never."


	58. Diagon Alley

**Happy summer everyone! Hopefully if any of you readers out there are in the tri-state area, or anywhere else in the midst of this mini heat wave, you're survivng with plenty of air-conditioning and iced tea, or whatever works to cool you off. Again, if you have any comments/questions/what have you, you can always shoot me a message. Now then, sit back, read, and enjoy...**

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58. Diagon Alley

Sirius was having a bad day.

The rain hammered at the window, his cramped office at the ministry was suffocatingly muggy, and to top it all off, he had a stack of papers towering up and over his head, just waiting to make his life a living hell. As his eyes lingered mournfully to the clock, Sirius noted the thirty seconds that had passed since the last time he checked. Another two and a half hours kept Sirius locked in his office, pretending to be productive while his mind remained fixed on something else.

Sirius was having a bad day.

There hadn't even been a hint of sunlight since last Monday, leaving Sirius to wallow beneath the gray skies that reflected his mood perfectly. The abysmal weather kept Sirius from doing anything to relieve his frustration. He couldn't get on his broom without risking life and limb, he couldn't wander the muggle streets surrounding the ministry; he couldn't do anything but sit at his desk and stare at his work. With not even a hint of Death Eater activity detected, it was as if the aurors and the Order alike had a vacation. Everyone else seemed just peachy over the lull. Everyone except Sirius, that is. With no battles, no action, no Death Eaters to hex into oblivion, Sirius was left painstakingly bored, empty, and frustrated.

Sirius was having a bloody miserable day.

It had been three days. Three days since Sirius finally cracked. Three days since he came clean, told the truth, spilled the beans, confessed his deepest and darkest secret to the one person who truly mattered. Three days since he said the dreaded three words no one ever expected Sirius Black to say.

Three words that defined a man's life. Three words Sirius once loathed and feared. Three words that had consumed his world for months. Three words that brought Sirius to bear his soul. Three words he heard James and Lily throw around for the past year, and yet he never understood. Three words that made the earth stop turning, that he never meant to say but now wanted to shout from the rooftops. Three words he _knew _she felt too.

But since Sirius declared the dreaded, _"I love you," _his world took a turn for the worse. The sting of rejection - or denial, as Sirius knew for sure - still lingered in him, gnawing away each day that it remained. Mora still would not admit her true feelings. Instead of allowing herself to be happy, as she should, she acted as if Sirius didn't exist. She wouldn't look at him, she wouldn't speak to him, she would hardly acknowledge his existence. And in the rare moments when she let down her defenses, let a bit of her true feelings sparkle through her hard facade, she would run.

Nothing Sirius could say or do had worked. At this point he thought that even if he locked her in a room with her, refusing to give her food or water until she talked to him, she wouldn't budge. It was totally hopeless.

_It's not love, Sirius. It's, an infatuation,_ she had said. _You'll get over it._

What did he have to do to prove to her this was different? What could he say to make her understand? Why couldn't she believe him, instead of finding any and every reason not to be with him?

_You'll get over it._

"Not in a million years..." he muttered.

"Looks like you're making progress," James greeted as he stepped inside the office. He motioned to the stack of papers, "You know they're not going to get finished by just glaring at them."

"Thanks for reminding me," Sirius huffed.

James sighed, taking his own seat at his desk. "She still hasn't talked to you, has she?"

"Not a bloody word," Sirius mumbled.

"Just give her time, Padfoot, she'll come around."

"And what if she doesn't?" Sirius snapped unexpectedly. "What if she never lets me in? What if she lets this entire nonsense with Prewett ruin the rest of her life?"

"I don't think Prewett is to blame for this, mate," James suggested gently.

"Like bloody hell he is!" Sirius fumed. "If he hadn't scared Mora away from love, this wouldn't be happening!"

"Can you really be sure -"

"Mora loves me, Prongs," Sirius interrupted, jumping out of his seat. "She loves me, and you know it. _She _knows it! She's just too stubborn to say it!"

"Listen to me, Sirius," James replied coolly as he stood. "Don't be too fast to judge Mora's intentions. She's trying to protect you, you moron!"

Sirius' brow furrowed. "Protect me?"

James' anger fell, and instantly he looked as if he regretted his words. "Never mind. Let's just finish up the work we've got here, alright?"

"James," Sirius said. "Has she told you something. Is there something I don't...?"

"Forget it," James insisted.

"Something's up, James," Sirius continued, "There's something going on..."

"There's nothing!"

"LADS!" the commanding voice of Alaster Moody boomed as he swooped into the office. "Get your wands and get off your arses! We've got a red alert!"

"Death Eaters?" Sirius asked, with a little too much excitement.

"Loads of them, attacking in Diagon Alley," Moody reported. "All aurors 'ave been called in, and the Order too. Let's move, ladies!"

As the three swept out of the ministry, Sirius couldn't help but let a burst of triumphant excitement rushed through him. Finally, a battle, with Death Eaters to fight, skulls to crack, and a reason to let out some over-due anxiety.

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Mora's first trip to Diagon Alley certainly wasn't one worth remembering.

As she apperated upon the scene and the main street looked nothing like Lily's warm descriptions. There were no shoppers rushing down the avenue. There were no children gazing in awe at the brooms in the shop's window, or standing in an endless line for ice cream. There were no shopkeepers greeting guests. There was no laughter, no joy, no trace that this was once a happy place at all.

Screams rang in Mora's ears as civilians darted away for safety. Curses shot left and right, claiming their targets without mercy. The sky was churning with murky, black clouds; a dark charm used to mask the usual sunshine of the spring afternoon. A ghoulish mark hung in the air, the emerald skull and snake assuring Mora she arrived in the right place. This wasn't Diagon Alley anymore; this was the Death Eaters' playground.

"_Crucio!_" a voice snarled as the curse rushed towards her.

"Protego!" Mora boomed as she blocked the attack.

"Quick, are we?" a familiar voice quipped. Bellatrix Lestrange loomed closer, a ghostly figure in her Death Eater mask and robe.

"Stupe-"

"_Crucio!_" Bellatrix shouted before Mora could finish her spell.

Ducking away with no time to spare, Mora yelled, "STUPEFY!" The spell met its mark, and with a strangled laugh, Bellatrix crashed to the ground. More ripped the Death Eater's wand from her fist, and with no remorse, she snapped it in two. In one last, vengeful act, she kicked Bellatrix in the ribs. "That's for Fabien and Gideon, you_ bitch,_" Mora snarled before darting away.

"Not so tough now, are you, Prewett?" Mora heard a Death Eater taunt. Turning instantly, Mora saw a cloaked figure towering above an Order member, his usual managed head of red hair matted with blood. "AVADA-"

"HEY!" Mora shouted. Without uttering a spell, a jet of red light darted from her wand, charging into the Death Eater. The spell threw him back several meters before he crashed through the glass of a store window.

Mora hurried the injured man's side. "Adam, are you alright?"

"Just peachy," Adam greeted, slowly rising to hit feet.

"Maybe you shouldn't," Mora warned, "You could -"

"I'll be fine, Healer Ashford," Adam laughed, "As long as you're near me."

Mora felt her cheeks flush red. "Adam, this isn't the time to..."

"You saved me, didn't you?" Adam gloated. "That's got to count for something."

"_This isn't the time!_"

"Admit it, you still have feelings for me..."

"CRUCIO!"

Mora jumped to her feet. "_Protego!_" Mora shouted, blocking the Death Eater's attack from behind Adam.

"Avada-"

"Immobulus!" Adam yelled, rising to his feet. His charm froze the Death Eater where he stood, and Adam cast his focus back to Mora. "Admit it."

"We're in the middle of a bloody battle, _you idiot!_" Mora shouted.

**"**_Mobilicorpus_!"

Suddenly Mora felt herself being jerked off her feet. As she hurtled threw the air, Mora could barely see Adam's frantic face fading in the distance. She landed on the pavement roughly and let out a short groan. A Death Eater leered in triumph above her feeble position.

"Expulso!" the Death Eater boomed.

Mora dodged away and scrambled to her feet. She store upon the blackened crater of pavement, noting that she could have been killed in that blast. "You stupid -"

"STUPEFY!" the voice of Alaster Moody grumbled. The red light hit the Death Eater right between the eyes.

As the feeling of warmth trickled over her hand, Mora looked down and noticed the gash extending over her palm. Mora gasped as she eyed the shard of glass poked from her skin. In a panic, Mora stumbled into the nearest alleyway, hoping to find refuge from the fight long enough to extract the glass.

Pointing her wand over the glass, Mora mumbled an extraction charm, and the glass lifted out of her hand, shattering upon the ground in a bloody cascade. Digging in her pocket, Mora extracted a small bottle and pulled it open with her teeth. She dumped the dark liquid over the gash, and instantly it closed. "That's better," she said, opening and closing a fist.

But just before Mora were to propel herself back into battle, her eyes loomed upward. By chance, she caught the sight of a window four stories above her head. A man inside pounded his fists against the glass with a frantic, pained expression. He strained a shout for help, and as a hand clamped down upon his shoulder, like a claw closing around its prey, he was jolted backwards and out of sight. Without a moment of hesitation, Mora sprinted into action. She raced out of the alley, and as she dodged through the battle raging around her, reached the door to the building. As she blasted open the door, she caught notice of the "Florish and Blotts" sign.

The bookstore had been ripped apart from the seams. Pages upon pages masked the store in a blanket of destruction. Shelves had been knocked down, the counter had been shattered, and the smell of death hung in the air. Mora had never been inside the bookstore, had never known it in its glory, but she could feel the devastation of the attack as she passed through the store and raced up the backstairs. She had no idea what she was about to barge into, if the man she had spotted was already dead, but her instincts powered her forward.

Shouts filled her ears as Mora reached the third-floor landing. As she fumbled for her wand in her pocket, the conversation intensity struck her.

"This is your last chance, Jenson, just tell us where it is!"

"I tell you!" The panic of his voice rose. "I don't have it!"

"You're lying, Jenson," a gruff voice retorted.

"I'm not! I swear upon Merlin's grave, I don't have the diary!"

"We know you've got it..." a deeper voice growled.

"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation," a third voice intervened. "The Dark Lord wants it, Jenson. And any who stand in his path will -"

The man, Jenson, let out a strangled cry. "It's not here -"

"Enough!"

As she finally got a grip on her wand, Mora kicked down the door. She stormed into the room, spotting Jenson curled up in a ball in the center of the room, with three Death Eaters towering above him. Their heads instantly snapped towards Mora as the crash resonated through the room.

"Petrificous Totalous!" Mora boomed. The first Death Eater's limbs snapped shut, and he toppled to the ground in a useless heap.

"Avda -"

"_Reducto_!" A Death Eater cast. Mora blocked the curse just in time, and the crimson spell fired towards the attacker. The force of its explosion sent the Death Eater and the third Death Eater blasting through the brick wall and plummeting to the ground bellow.

Mora sighed as she lowered her wand to her side. "Y-you..." Jenson stammered. "You saved me!"

Mora came to the man's side, "Are you hurt?"

"No," he said instantly. "They, destroyed my shop! The books, records, everything, ruined! They were going to kill me -" The man rambled on in his frantic state, "- They could, they _would_..."

"What did they want from you?" Mora asked impulsively.

Jenson looked up to Mora, his old, gray eyes swelling with apprehension. His face lined with agony as he said, "Her diary."

"Her? Who?" Another explosion rocked through Diagon Alley, sending a spray of debris through the street below. Jenson yelped, but Mora could not be disturbed.

Whatever the Death Eaters wanted from this man, Mora knew she needed to find it. It was something they were willing to kill for, perhaps even cause this entire siege upon Diagon Alley for. Whatever it was, Tom wanted it.

Whatever it was, Mora had to keep it from him.

"Who is she?" Mora demanded again.

With on last moment of deliberation, Jenson obliged. His lips quivered as he replied, "Rowena Ravenclaw."

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"Quick, get them in here," Mora ordered as she pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. The battle had finally ended, leaving the Death Eaters to retreat and the Order to clean up after them. Diagon Alley was left in ruin, with scores of buildings brought downs and heaps of rubble filling the streets. The focus of the Order remained in crisis mode, but shifted from obliterating Death Eaters to caring for injured civilians. While some only had cuts and bruises, others lay helpless and dying in the streets. And, of course, there was the mass of unlucky witches and wizards that did not survive the fight.

Mora had set up the makeshift infirmary in a half-demolished cafe. The tables were transformed into patient cots and Order members carried victims inside for care. Those with most dire needs, Mora attended first before there were capable of being apparated to Saint Mungo's. The only other Healers beside her were Order member Sasha Vallace and Aaron Zeller, who had been in Diagon Alley at the time of the attack. The three of them buzzed around the victims, doing everything they could to keep the next alive.

But as Sasha attended to an injured man, he responded fiercely. "I tell you, I'm fine!"

"Please," Sasha answered meekly, "Just lie back down. Your head -"

"Is _fine_," Adam Prewett seethed, "You stitched it up, and that's all there is to it. May I remind you that in the hospital I am your superior, so let me -"

"Vallace!" Mora cried out in her authoritative tone, "I need you here, _now_!"

"I'm here," she said as she came to Mora's side. Mora crouched beside a cot, wrapping gauze around a wounded wizard's leg. "I stopped the bleeding as much as I could. Keep pressure on it, and make Moody take her to Saint Mungo's ASAP."

As Mora left Sasha to attend to the victim, she turned to help whoever was next. Adam appeared suddenly before her. "Where am I needed, Healer Ashford?" he asked with a salute.

"I don't have time for this, Adam," Mora snapped as she eyed James setting a sobbing blonde upon a cot on the opposite end of the room. "You're injured, you're of no use to me."

Mora rushed to meet the woman and set her eyes upon the shards of glass jutting from her forehead. Without a moment's delay, Mora gently pressed her wand against the blonde's skin and chanted a healing charm. The glass dissolved into the air, but the wounded forehead did not mend itself, as the charm usually did. "Cursed," Mora mumbled beneath her breath. "Alright, I'll need ginger root, a vile, fluxweed, and whole lot of bandages," she listed to herself.

Before she could even turn to retrieve the items, they were presented to her right before her nose. Mora glared at Adam, but still took the supplies as she sat on the side of the woman's cot. Quickly she shoved the ginger root and fluxweed into the vile. "You could have a concussion, Adam," Mora chided on. "For all we know you could have internal damage and pass out at any moment. I don't need you overworking yourself then collapsing; I have patients to attend to, Adam. Patients who didn't deliberately put themselves in harm's way."

"All the more reason you need my help."

Mora groaned. She dabbed some of her new potion onto a bandage and gingerly pressed it against the woman's forehead.

"Keep the compress on for two minutes before -"

"I know what I'm doing!" Mora snapped.

"I'm just trying to -"

"You're just trying to save the day and be the famous healer yet again." Mora's eyes narrowed upon Adam. "Meanwhile, you're in no position to be walking around, let alone be attending to injuries. It's their lives in your hands to, you know."

"So what do you suppose I do?" Adam asked strongly. "Just sit tight and let these people die?"

"No, I expect you to stay out of my way, go to the hospital and get yourself checked out. Leave the victims to the rest of us."

A small smile took over Adam's formerly fierce face, and sincerity replaced his arrogance. "You're truly remarkable, Mora."

Mora rolled her eyes, expecting this to be just another one of Adam's antics. "Not now..."

"I mean it, Mora," Adam repeated, kneeling beside Mora at the cot. His dark eyes bore into Mora's with a sudden intensity she was not prepared for. "You really dedicate yourself to this. To this job, to these people. You're completely self-sacrificing."

Mora brushed away the strange trance. "It's my job." Gently she pressed the bandage upon the victim's forehead one last time, leaving it to conceal the wound.

"Ewen!" Mora called as the Order member rushed past her. He stopped before the cot and Mora rose to her feet. "Could you take this woman to the hospital? Severe loss of blood, unresponsive, cursed wounds."

"Sure thing, Ashford," Ewen answered as he lifted the blonde into his arms and disappeared out of the cafe.

"What next, Healer Ashford?" Adam asked as he joined Mora at eye-level.

"You go home or to the hospital. I honestly don't care at this point. Just stay out of my way," Mora ordered.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" A voice bellowed from the front of the building. Arthur Weasly and Dorcas Meadows rushed inside, with a bloodied body levitating before them. With a slow motion of her arm, Dorcas lowered the victim upon nearby cot. "We need help over here!" Dorcas' commanding voice shouted.

Mora raced towards the victim. The moment her eyes dropped to the near lifeless body withering in pain, her heart dropped. It was like the hysteria of the past scene melted away, the screams of the battle muted, the horrors of the injuries forgotten. All that mattered was the man before her, his once warm eyes snapped shut. Mora's mouth shaped the words before her heart could even believe it.

"_No!_"


	59. Useless

59. Useless

"You've done everything you can, Mora."

The words hung in the corridor with a flat finality. Mora chose not to hear them, nor let the blaring lights and stark white walls rouse her, nor the warm hand on her shoulder offer her any comfort. Instead, all she could do was stare ahead. The sterile, clinical feel of the hospital offered Mora some solace, like a place to fade away, not the vessel for change she saw it as in days past. Saint Mungo's was no longer familiar ground, not the retreat she could control. It was her prison.

"I should be in there." The words fell from her lips deafly.

Lily's hand remained fixed upon Mora's shoulder. Her emerald eyes masked her own agony as she assured, "There's nothing more you can do."

"I need to help," Mora said as she shrugged Lily's hand away. "I need to get in there, to do something. I'm the one who..." Her words trailed off into a mumble.

"You're in no state to operate on him," Lily reminded gently.

She had spoken those very words to Adam less than an hour ago. But of course, being in such a state, Mora did not understand it nor care to. All she wanted to do was to throw on her Healer robes, to rush into that operating room, and to save him. She _had_ to save him.

"They don't - I have to - I can't just - I have to..."

But Mora knew she couldn't. Her hysteria would be of no help in such a surgery. Mora rose a shaky hand to her face, and she gripped her forehead. She hid her bloodshot eyes from Lily as again she mumbled, "I have to."

"You've done enough already," Lily said. "If it weren't for you, he wouldn't have made it this far."

"It's not enough," Mora sniffled through her new batch of tears. "It's not enough... I can't just stand here and wait, be useless..."

"You are not useless."

Mora threw her hand away from her face. "Look at me, Lily!" she roared. "If he - if the surgery, if he doesn't ..." But Mora could not even form the words. Tears oozed down her face. "It's my fault."

Lily wrapped her arms around Mora, pulling her in to as tight of a hug as she could manage with her giant belly. Mora let her tears ruin Lily's good blouse as the redhead cooed, "You've done your part, Mora. Now we have to let the other healers to theirs."

"But what if they can't?" Mora sobbed. "What if he...?"

"Have faith in him, Mora," Lily said with a new strength. "He'll pull through."

Mora wished so desperately to believe. She wanted to put on her strong face and have confidence in his will to live. But the Healer part of her brain and its logic told her otherwise.

When Arthur and Dorcas rushed him into the makeshift infirmary, Mora had never seen anything so gruesome. She had spent countless hours in the emergency room, facing every magical medical horror in the book. But this put all the others to shame. This, Mora didn't understand. This, Mora couldn't control. This was different.

It was as if a torturous, excruciating sleep settled over him. He couldn't wake, he couldn't speak, nor could he respond in any familiar way to all of Mora's frantic attempts. Her charms, spells, potions; nothing could wake him. She couldn't pull him out of the state, and instead he thrashed about the cot. What could have done his to him? A curse? A potion? What sort of nightmare was he trapped in?

When they brought him to her, Mora knew she had to act fast. But what could she possibly do to save a man from a curse she couldn't indentify. In her panic, Mora tried everything. Reviving spells, waking charms, blood replenishing potions, anything she could get her hands on. But to Mora's horror, it had all been in vain. Loosing precious time, his erratic movements escalated, and his face contorted in agony. At any second, Mora could lose him. Mora pulled out her last option.

It had been the bezoar that saved him. Mora managed to pry open his mouth and force it down his throat. As he swallowed, the thrashing slowed until it finally stopped. But still, he could not wake.

And now, all Mora could do was wait. Wait as he struggled for his life. Wait as Healers sliced him open on the operating table. Wait besides Lily's optimistic presence. Wait with his blood covering her shirt, her hands, and her cheek. Wait for something to happen. Wait for him to die. Wait for him to live. Wait for him.

Wait for Sirius.

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"I got here as soon as I heard," James' troubled voice echoed as he hurried into the waiting room.

Mora rose from her seat, where she had been for three hours, to meet him. Grief lined every inch of James' face. "How is he?" James asked.

"He's still in surgery," Mora answered, "We won't know until they finish."

"Right." James let his tired hazel eyes drop to the floor. "Right...Where's Lily?" he asked.

"She went down to the cafeteria. She needed a break," Mora explained. "How were things at Diagon Alley when you left?"

James' gaze travelled back to Mora. "Better, much better," James replied. "We managed to get all the injured here that we found."

"You think there's more?" Mora asked, noting the wording of his statement.

"We hope so," James said. "We hope we find more alive."

Mora felt her stomach drop. Images of the carnage left by the Death Eaters burst with life in her memory. "How are the causalities?"

James shifted uncomfortably. "It's too soon to tell."

"Bad," Mora answered for herself quietly.

The two stood in heavy silence for a minute, each too consumed in their own thoughts and questions to acknowledge the other. Finally, James sucked in a loud breath, and his eyes glossed over with moisture. "Merlin," he slurred out. He hooked a hand behind his neck uneasily.

"I'd like to know where Padfoot was when..." He trailed off and took a short sniffle. "Probably playing the hero, eh? Saving some damsel in distress or battling off hoards of Death Eaters single handedly, before - " His false pride dropped away, revealing his aguish. "Before it happened."

"James," Mora said through her own uncontrollable tears. "James, I'm so sorry..."

Reaching out his arms, James embraced Mora tightly. "Me too," he said. "He's like my brother..."

Sobs overtook Mora. In her memory, she could she Sirius, the real Sirius, laughing in Gryffindor Tower. She could see him in those care-free days, when life's battles were homework and exams. She could see his smile, hear his laugh, feel that same spark of anger as she remembered his arrogance. But now, Mora feared she may never have that Sirius again.

"I'm so sorry, James," Mora whispered into his chest.

"He'll get through this," James asserted, despite the slight shakiness in his voice. "Sirius will get through this."

"Excuse me," a voice cautiously interrupted. Mora separated from James to see a familiar healer stand before her, a chart clutched to his chest and tired expression over his face. His round glasses reflected his black eyes as he looked upon the two gingerly. Mora cleared her throat quickly as she wiped the moisture from her face.

"Demetri," Mora greeted, bypassing the formality of calling her colleague _Healer Perkins_. "Well...?"

Demteri nodded slightly. "He is out of surgery."

Mora felt as if too much air had been forced into her lungs; it was relief, but she knew it was too soon to breathe easy. "How is he?"

"Mister Black is now in recovery. He has stabilized, his heart rate is nearly regulated, he can breathe on his own, everything seems to be in order."

But a dark shadow seemed to dampen this good news.

"What did this to him?" James asked. "A spell?"

Demetri readjusted his glasses before beginning. "It is like nothing we have ever seen before. Not a curse, or a spell. A hybrid."

Confusion swelled over James' face as Mora's filled with disbelief. "That's only been rumored," she justified quickly. "No one's every developed an effective hybrid, there's no way..."

"I'm afraid it is true," Demetri confirmed.

James looked to Mora anxiously. "What's a hybrid?"

"A new kind of weapon," Demetri began. "A cross between two certain magical elements. In this case, it was a potion and a curse. Seperate, they are powerful. Together - devastating."

_It'll be fine,_ Mora reassured herself. _He's alive._

A chill ran over Mora's spine. "What made up the hybrid?" Her clinical, work-attitude attempted to mask her horror.

_He's alive,_ she repeated.

"The Cruciatous Curse."

_He's alive._

"And a potion."

Mora did not miss Demetri's hesitation. "What potion?"

The healer gulped. Even the most qualified and renown healers in Saint Mungo's knew about Mora Ashford; her potential, her talent, and most importantly, her temper. Finally, Demetri revealed, "The Draught of Living Death."

Mora felt as if a rock had been shoved down her throat. With those words, Mora's cool, rational side disappeared. All the remained was disbelief.

James grew suddenly fearful as he eyed Mora. "What is that?" he asked.

"Draught of the Living Dead is a very powerful potion," Demeteri explained, "It causes the victim to fall into a deep sleep. It affects every person differently, but in most cases, the higher the dosage, the stronger the effect. An overdose of the Draught can put the user in an unwakeable state, or even slow breathing to a point of suffocation.

"The hybrid contained a high concentration of the draught laced with the cructiaous curse. Upon inake, the hybrid causes the victim excruciating pain. The victim is then rendered unconscious, but still suffers the pain through the sleep. Essentially, the hybrid tortures the victim to death. It's simply a matter of how long the victim can last."

"But, the surgery was a success," James assured, "He's going to make a full recovery."

Mora's eyes clenched shut. "His body, at least."

"In surgery we were able to extract the hybrid from Mister Black's bloodstream. His body will not suffer any long-lasting damage. But, his mind...You have to understand, the torture Mister Black must have underwent is beyond description. The damage, emotional, psychological - that we have no way of comprehending. If the hybrid reached its maximum strength, it is possible that his mind may never attain its previous functions."

"Are you saying he's gone?" James' eyes suddenly swelled with anger. "A vegetable?"

Demetri recoiled. "It is possible that Mister Black may never wake. A permanent coma."

zszszszszzszszszsz

"I'll never understand it," Mora muttered mutely. Her back screamed of pain as she stiffened in her seat. The small, linoleum white walls of her Saint Mungo's office never seemed so cold until now, confining her in solitude mockingly. Her head throbbed with frustration as she dropped her eyes back to her desk. Every book, report, and paper the hospital had on file that ever mentioned hybrids - even rumored their existence - was strewn over her desk. She had clawed through each and every one of them, searching for any clue that would help.

But her search had turned up only one, bleak truth - Hybrids were, at this time, beyond the healing world's understanding.

In one, vengeful sweep, Mora sent the papers flying across the room. They fluttered to the ground in a cascade, covering the tiled floor with a layer of medical jargon. She pounded a fist upon the desk's surface as she felt the sting of failure yet again. She had spent a week locked up in the hospital, rummaging through file after file, interrogating healer after healer, and following up every dead lead she could find. And here Mora sat, empty handed.

"Knock knock," a deep voice greeted with a soft apprehension. Hagrid slid into the office with a warm, slight smile. "Thought ye' could use some lunch." He placed a tray upon Mora's desk, adorned with a somewhat lopsided sandwich and a bottle pumpkin juice.

Mora's eyes did not move from the desk. "I'm not hungry," she mumbled.

Hagrid sighed. "Yer gotta eat something, Mora. It's no good fer yer, ter be locked up in this little office all day withou' any -"

"It's fine," Mora said."I'm fine."

"C'mon now," Hagrid continued. He lifted the plate in the air, circling before Mora's eyes. "It's yer favorite. Ham and cheese, and -"

"Merlin, Hagrid! I don't want the bloody sandwich!" Rocketing from her seat, Mora knocked the plate from Hagrid's hand. The sandwich flopped the ground, adding to the catastrophe. Mora's hand recoiled as she regretted the outburst. She looked up to Hagrid, whose wide black eyes swelled with understanding.

"I'm - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"Eh, yer know, it was a bad sandwich anways," he mused cheerfully. "Not e'nough cheese, I think."

Mora let a small smile creep over her weathered face. "Bloody hell," she mumbled, letting her hands rest on the top of her head. "What am I doing?"

"You jest need some rest," Hagrid said, "Take some time away, then ye' can get back to this..."

More let out a sour chuckle. "I don't have that kind of time." She threw her hands back to her sides. "Every minute he spends in that coma, he loses any hope of ever coming out of it!"

"I know, Mora, I jest…" Hagrid soothed, "This can't be good fer yer..."

"It doesn't matter what's good for _me_," Mora boomed. "_I'm_ not the one fighting for my life! _I'm_ not the one who got hit with a hybrid! _I'm_ not the one everyone's given up hope on!"

"No one 'as stopped believn' in Sirius," Hagrid started, still calm despite Mora's hysteria. "We've all been pullin' for him, we 'ave."

"That's not enough!" Mora's tirade exploded as tears streaked down her cheeks. "It's not enough to just sit at his beside! It's not enough just to hope for the best! We have to save him_. I _have to save him!" As Mora fell into sobs, Hagrid pulled her into his arms.

"Shhh, it'll be all right," Hagrid assured as the brunette sobbed into his chest. "Jest breathe, it'll be alright..."

"I won't give up on him, Hagrid. I can't."

"I know ye' won't." Mora pulled away slowly. Hagrid brushed a tear away with a massive hand as gently as possible. "Sirius knows it too."


	60. No Excuses

60. No Excuses

To Mora, everything looked normal. Familiar. Four walls, tiled floor, two chairs, bed. The usual set-up. Lights lowered to a dim glow for the evening. Clean, sterile, white, uniform. Those were the things Mora clung to. Routine kept her in control. It wasn't exactly concrete at Saint Mungo's, with patients rushed in without warning sporting unknown ailments at all hours of the day. To get through the chaos, she needed the familiar. She needed to see the plain, white walls, to hear the hospital's bustle, to have a storage closet of healing potions a few meters away. They were her safety net. Even Mora Ashford, known as the new, fresh and most innovative Healer Saint Mungos had seen in the past decade, known for quick thinking and near-unorthodox approaches, needed a little normalcy.

The room she stepped into seemed to be just that. The chart with the patient's medical information levitated by the foot of the bed, the patient's name was printed neatly beside the door, the bed was at a forty degree angle, the heart rate was stable, a chair waited for her by the patient - all of these things Mora knew to expect. Nothing was out of place. At least, Mora tried to convince herself that as she sat down.

He looked peaceful. Mora knew he would, but it still caught her by surprise. His chest moved up and down lightly with each breath and his hair hung lazily in his face. It looked like an ordinary nap, he could be on the sofa in the house, or slacking off at the ministry, or -

_He's not napping, Mora._

No, if he had been napping, the truly blank expression on his face would not have alarmed Mora as it had. True, most people were expressionless as they slept, but the truth behind his peaceful appearance was too much for Mora to bear.

What did she do now? Just sit here and stare at him? Talk to him? She was a healer, for Merlin's sake! She needed to be doing something more than sitting on her arse and gawking. She needed to get back to her office, to a lab, anywhere that she could be useful...

Her eyes lingered to his side, and she noticed she had intertwined her fingers with his own. The hung limply in her hand. "Hey there," she said softly.

_Just keep going, Mora. Keep talking, like everything is normal..._

"So...I...well..." Mora sighed. This was stupid.

"You're an idiot, you know." Mora's once sweet tone was now harsh, blunt. "I wonder what you were doing, how many civilians you were trying to rescue. Or were you just showing off? Bloody reckless, if you ask me."

Mora could feel something stinging behind her eyes. _Not now, Merlin not now..._

"You drive me crazy sometimes. You really do."

Mora knew this wasn't what Hagrid meant by _being there for Sirius._ That would mean smiles and rainbows. Word of encouragement, professions of love, things you were supposed to say to comatose relatives. What the bloody hell was Mora doing?

"You're loud, you're stubborn, you eat everyone else's food and then lie about it, you leave the bloody toilet seat up, you snore, you hog the bathroom, you'll snog anything on two legs, you're obsessed with your ruddy hair, you have no consideration for other peoples' personal space..."

_Are you mad, Cartea? Are you trying to kill him?_

"You're arrogant, hot-headed, pushy, over-bearing, immature, inconsiderate..."

_SHUT UP ALREADY!_

"You'll never give up on anything you want, or anyone. No matter how ridiculous and smothering that makes you."

The words flooded from her lips, while tears still threatened to spill from her eyes. "Why couldn't you give up on me, Sirius?"

… _I love you, Mora... _

"I ignored you, I pushed you away..."

…_..I've said it a hundred bloody times, and I'll say another hundred bloody times until you believe me..._

"I tried forget it all, pretend we were just friends, just roommates."

…_.You're all that matters to me..._

"But you never believed me, not for one second..."

_...and I'm not about to let you run away from this._

"You knew all along."

She had known too. No matter how hard she tried, how she denied him time after time, how she lied to him, to Lily, to herself, Mora had always known.

The tears were now unavoidable. Mora dropped Sirius' hand as she bound up from her seat.

"I did it to protect you!" she shouted. "I did it to keep you safe! To keep you _alive!_ I pushed you away for months and months to make sure you would never end up like this. I lied to everyone time and time again, until I started believing it myself. And what do you do? You nearly get yourself killed. _What the bloody hell is wrong with you?_"

Mora's feet propelled her to the exit. With her fingers wrapped around the door knob, she paused. "Who am I kidding?" She let out a sour chuckle. "We both know_ I'm_ the idiot here."

Mora dropped her hand to the side. Slowly, she turned around. Her back pressed against the door, her eyes fell back to Sirius. "All this time...I thought if you weren't with me, you'd be safe. I thought they'd have no reason to go after you if we weren't together. I just wanted you to be safe."

She took a small step forward. "How bloody stupid was that? What made me think you'd be any safer? We're all in the Order, for Merlin's sake. Every day we stick our necks fighting. There's always hoards of Death Eaters lining up to murder us. We've all got targets on our backs."

Mora found herself seated again, back at Sirius' bedside. "We've always been in this much danger, haven't we?" A sigh of understanding fell from her lips. "It was always just a matter of time until one of us..."

Mora grabbed Sirius' hand. "You listen to me, Sirius Black." Her voice blazed with a new determination. "That's not gonna be you, okay? You're not the first of us to fall. You're not going anywhere." Her grip tightened. "You're going to wake up, you hear me? You're going to wake up and everything is going to be okay."

A new batch of tears welled behind Mora's blue, tired eyes. "There's too much you still have to do here. Lily's having the baby in two months, Sirius. You have to help James be a father, you know he's gonna be a mess. You have to be cool Uncle Sirius - you know, teach the baby how to ride a broom, all those things Lily won't let him do. You have to go back to the ministry, show Moody you aren't some scared little newbie. You have to be Head Auror by the time you're thirty, like you said you would. You have to teach Peter how to dance - now _that's_ going to be a project. You have to come with us to visit Emmy in the fall. You have to come invade the States with us - Black takes over New York, remember?

"You have to wake up and tell me how stupid I am," Mora's voice cracked. "You have to tell me _I told you so. _You have to make me pay for all I've put you through.

"You can hear me, Sirius, I know you can. You have no excuse for lying in this bed a second longer."

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There was not an hour that Sirius' room went unoccupied. The former Gryffindors took shifts, filling the drab hospital quarter with light hearted, one-sided chatter. Remus usually took the morning hours, Lily at noon, Peter until nightfall, and then James until midnight. The dead of the night was Mora's. She stayed from twelve to seven. At seven she would retire to the cot in her office. After three or four hours of restless sleep, Mora would throw herself into research. She visited the cafeteria sparsely, and unknowingly depended on Hagrid or Peter bringing her meals. She hadn't breathed deeply since the Diagon Alley attack. She lost all interest in her personal appearance. She lost all interest in most things.

Sometimes she would rip apart the hospital archives. Sometimes she would interrogate Sirius' healers. Sometimes she would sit at her desk with her door locked and cry. And whenever someone dared to question Mora's impossible routine, she would scream them down. She refused to go home, she refused to go outside, and most importantly, she refused to let anyone take her shift with Sirius. No one could take her away from him.

Four days of Mora's routine and Sirius' constant bedside companionship went by, but Sirius' condition remained unchanged.

Mora worked furiously at her desk, scribbling notes in the margins of a forgotten healer's report. A knock sounded from her door. "Not now, Pete," she grumbled.

After a moment of silence, Mora resumed her work. Another knock shattered her concentration. "Peter, I mean it."

Silence. Mora's lips pulled into a tight line, her eyes fell back to the parchment. Now, where was she...

_BANG BANG BANG!_

The door trembled violently as knocks grew fierce. _BANG BANG __**BANG**__-_

"MERLIN, DAMMIT!"

Mora leapt from her desk, storming to the door. "I swear to Merlin, Pettigrew, you better run -" As she wrenched open the door, she screamed. It wasn't the stout, cowering Peter that Mora had anticipated.

She was different, yet exactly as Mora remembered. Her dark hair was shorter, more angular, but still gleamed with its natural auburn highlights. Her wide eyes were warm, but swollen and pink, like Mora's had been for the past agonizing days. Her face was comforting, but lined with exhaustion from countless hours of travel. Her tall frame still cowered over Mora, but she was wrapped in a designer trench coat, something she must have picked up in the States.

Emmeline Taylor smiled weakly. "Damn, Mora, you look awful."

"Em? Is it really you?"

"No, actually, this is what Severus Snape would like after a shower...Of course it's me!"

Mora collapsed in her arms. "Oh, Emmy!"

"I'm sorry it took me so long," Emmeline apologized, hugging Mora even tighter. "I got James' owl three days ago and -"

"You're here!" Mora wheezed.

Emmeline stroked Mora's hair. "Yeah." She pulled the young healer closer. "Yeah, I'm home."

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"How bad is it, Remus?" Emmeline asked as the pair entered the hospital cafeteria.

Remus sighed, keeping his eyes ahead of him.

"That bad, eh?"

"The healers told us there wasn't much hope," Remus said, agony gripping each word. "It was a miracle he survived at all... they say Mora saved him when they found him in Diagon Alley."

"But now...?"

"Now, well...the healers told us from the beginning Sirius would probably remain unresponsive. They said the longer he stays in the coma, the more unlikely a full recovery becomes."

"You think this is it, then?" Emmeline's tone was just above a whisper. "He'll never wake up?"

Remus said nothing until the two reached a table. Slowly, they sat. "I never want to say I've given up hope on Sirius, a part of me will always believe it'll happen. But ... no, I don't see him coming out of the coma."

"I...I guess I knew that."

"We all do, on some level."

"So what happens now?"

Remus shifted uncomfortably. "We have to ...adjust, I guess. We have to make permanent plans, get Sirius' affairs in order, and ..." Remus' throat grew dry as he was unable to form the words.

Emmeline gulped. "Move on?" Emmeline's eyes wandered to the ceiling, slowly welling involuntarily. "Well, I proved today that I'm a horrible human being..."

"What? Em, you can't say that, you -"

"No, I most certainly can." Emmeline's eyes flew back to Remus, hard and cold. "Merlin, I run off to the bloody States to some fantasy life, leaving the people I love to fight for humanity. Stupid, bloody stupid..."

"You are not stupid."

"Fine, but I'm selfish. The most selfish person I know."

"Emmy -"

"_I am!_" She seethed. "I turned my back on all of, just so I could -"

"Stop this." Remus commanded. Emmeline fell silent, but her scowl deepened. "Emmeline Janet Taylor." He pronounced each word slowly, carefully. "You did not turn your back on us. We don't believe that, Dumbledore doesn't believe that, so don't you do so for a minute. You were offered an amazing opportunity - if any of us had been in your place, we would have done the same thing."

"That's a lie."

"It is not," Remus retorted.

"Oh really? Do you think James would have gone running overseas? Do you think he would have left you, and Lily, and Sirius, and all of us? Would Mora do it? Would she hide from this war like I have? Would you, Remus?"

"You didn't leave because you were hiding, Em."

"How do you know?" she accused sharply.

Remus' face softened. He stretched his hands across the table, reaching for Emmeline. She did not move. "Because I know you, Em."

"It was stupid, irresponsible, selfish -"

"Stop beating yourself up about it," he said concernedly. "No one blames you. No one ever will. You're the only one entertaining such ridiculous -"

Emmeline slammed her fists against the table. "They already took Edmund!" Emmeline shrieked, unable to contain her grief. Tears covered her face; Emmeline was truly vulnerable. "And now they took Sirius."

For the first time since Sirius' admittance to Saint Mungo's, Remus said nothing. He remembered Edmund Taylor. He remembered the little boy's picture in the paper. He remembered the Death Eater raid that left in neighborhood in ruin. He remembered the tiny coffin being lowered into the ground -

"So you see, I should have every reason to be fighting You-Know-Who with every breath in my body. Instead, I left. I ran."

"Look at me, Emmy." He leaned across the table towards the brunette. "Look at me. You did not run. You are not a coward. What happened to Edmund was not your fault. What's happening to Sirius _is not your fault._"

A small, misplaced smile appeared over Emmeline's grief-stricken expression. "But wouldn't it be easier if you had me to blame?"

Emmeline opened her hands, and Remus slipped his fingers between her own gently. "Not in a million years."

zszszszszszszsz

"Sorry I'm late," Mora muttered as she slipped into the hospital room. James rose from his seat, taking in the healer's young expression cautiously.

"I got sort of caught up in a few reports...but, no matter, I'm here now." Mora moved closer. She still could not get used to the lurch her stomach felt every time she stepped into the room and saw Sirius for the first time, again. "So," Mora picked up, tearing her eyes away from the bed. "You can go home to your lovely wife, and, have a good night."

Despite her attempt at light, brief banter, Mora knew she couldn't mask her exhaustion. She felt her body weighing her down as she walked across the white, linoleum floor, dragging her movements down. James' quick, hazel eyes had not missed a beat.

"Mora -"

"James, don't."

"You know exactly what I'm gonna say..."

"Then don't say it," she snapped, pushing past him.

"Why don't you go home, get some real sleep, then you can come back in the morning."

"No."

"Or you can come back to our house. Lily can fix up the guest room, just so you can actually rest, eat a real meal, get back some of your strength before you have to -"

"No, no, no."

James put a hand on Mora's shoulder carefully. As weak as her body was these days, her posture grew instantly rigid at his touch. "You can't do this to yourself. You can't stay with him forever."

Mora's eyes narrowed into slits. "James Potter," she growled through her teeth. "Get out of here before I do something I regret."

Slowly, James removed his hand. Defeated, he shuffled to the door. "My offer still stands, whenever you're willing to accept," he said, his tone hopeful. Mora did not respond, nor did she even turn to acknowledge him. "We're all here for you, Mora."

"Be here for _him,_" Mora snapped. "He needs your support. I am fine."

James sighed. "Of course," he conceded. As the door clicked shut, Mora let out a small sigh. Her eyes turned back to Sirius; yes, _he_ was all that mattered now. She took her regular seat, and instantly her fingers wrapped around his limp hand.

"Well, never thought I'd see the day; James Potter, mummy-ing me." Mora laughed, but it was forced, plastic in every way.

_Keep it light, Mora,_ she reminded herself. Right. Sirius needed normalcy. He needed to be comfortable. She needed to make this perfect.

"Right, well, look what I brought," Mora pulled a folded up newspaper from her bag, all the while clutching onto Sirius' hand. "Thought you'd want to keep up with Quidditch and all, so I can read you what the Prophet has to say." Mora let a small sound of disapproval. "Not that they have any taste when it comes to sports coverage, but it's the best we've got, right?"

As Mora unfolded the parchment, she heard the door swing open. Rolling her eyes, she expected to see James, or Peter, or even Hagrid, or maybe even all three. She thought she was in for some sort of intervention, some sick event to shift attention to her, attention that Sirius needed.

But as Mora looked over her shoulder, the figure in the doorway made her blood boil. No, _this_ wasn't an intervention. _This _was much worse.

And _this_ surely wasn't going to end well.


	61. Nice to Hear

61. Nice to Hear

"Sorry, I...didn't know you were here at this hour..." Even taken by surprise, Adam Prewett's words flowed smoothly.

"What are you doing here?" As anger rippled through her, Mora knew she needed to keep her temper in check. The last thing Sirius needed was a Mora v. Adam screaming fit in the middle of his room. She kept her tone low, controlled, but her question still came out in a snarl.

Same healer robes. Same scrutinizing eyes. Same commanding presence. Same polished appearance. Same Adam Prewett. There was a time this familiarity brought her comfort, Mora remembered. How his presence would soothe her. But now as he stood in the doorway of Sirius' hospital room, Mora felt far from at ease.

Adam shut the door behind him as he strode into the room. Unconsciously, Mora's fingers gripped Sirius' hand tighter. "Demetri asked me to check his charts," he said nonchalantly.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really," he answered flatly. "Is there something so horribly unbelievable about -"

"I believe it," Mora interjected, "That doesn't mean I'm going to allow it."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Mora snapped. "I don't want you anywhere near this room."

Adam's face pulled out of his expression of arrogant disbelief, to something Mora was beyond tired of - concern. "Mora -"

"Don't you _Mora _me!" There was no way she was going to let Adam lecture her, belittle her, or say anything to her in any relation to Sirius. She turned her body to face Adam completely, although she did not leave her seat nor Sirius' bedside. She held her rage back, forcing her words through clenched teeth. "Please leave, Adam."

"Alright, I'll go," he said softly. "If you come with me."

Mora's jaw nearly dropped. "What?"

"You know this isn't good for you, Mora, you're wasting away here."

"I'm fi-"

"You are not _fine_," Adam ordered. "You don't leave the hospital. Whenever you leave your office, you lock yourself in here. You haven't been home, you haven't seen any other patients -"

"I'm on extended holiday," Mora retorted. Under her breath, she mumbled "_Ordered _extended holiday..." Yes, her supervisors thought it necessary to give Mora leave, for now, so she could attend to her friends and Sirius.

"Which means you need to go home and rest," he said sharply, matching Mora's hostile tone. "You're doing more harm than good here."

"Isn't this what we tell the families? Sit there and give the patient a reason to wake up. Well, practice what you preach, Adam. I'm here for Sirius, I'm going to stay for Sirius."

"Sirius is not my concern. You are."

Mora's eyes burned in her skull. "Well, what they've said is true. You may be a good healer, Adam, but your bedside manner is miserable."

"Beside manner, eh?" The redhead's arms crossed over his chest. "You want me to treat you like the patient's family? Fine. I'll treat you like I treat all of them."

"Like dirt, right?"

"No, like a normal, everyday person," He answered icily. "A non-healer. Which means you do not spend every minute of the day at the hospital, you confine yourself to civilian areas, the waiting rooms, the cafeteria. You stay during protocol visiting hours, and then you get the bloody hell out of here."

"Unfortunately that's not going to happen. Not in a million years"

"You know the rules, Healer Ashford. I can bar you from this room."

Flames leapt in Mora's chest, up her throat, creeping through every inch of her body. "You wouldn't dare," she seethed. Mora released Sirius hand. She tried to ignore the pain of this action, distracting herself with rage. "You're not even assigned to this case."

"Neither are you. In fact, it was specifically requested you not be involved with -"

"It's a conflict of interest," Mora snapped. "We live together, I'm too close to him to make decisions as his Healer, same with Lily: I know the rules. But that does not give you any jurisdiction to keep me away from him."

"You wouldn't have a choice."

Mora took a daring step forward, her eyes livid, her heart beating rampantly out of her chest. "Are you pulling rank on me, Prewett?" She spit his surname like venom between her teeth, the way she scolded Sirius for doing so. "Are you willing to stoop that low?"

Adam sighed shortly. "You may have experienced incalculable success since you entered this field, Healer Ashford..." He said her name with no emotion, no inflection. "But I still have a higher level of authority. Like it or not, I am your superior."

"_Superior _myarse_!_"

"I can, if I find it necessary, force any non-family members to abstain from visiting said patient, take away any right of theirs to any further healing decisions -"

"_I_ _am _his family!"

"No, Healer Ashford, the law says you are not," Adam replied tersely. His face was cold, clinical. "Mister and Missus Orion Black, or any of their bloodline, however -"

"He's estranged from them! Sirius hasn't spoke to them in years, he _hates them_!"

"That is his fault. We don't bend the rules for his poor decisions," Adam stated. "Yes, in accordance to the law set by the Department of Family Affairs, St. Mungo's can restrict such privileges to blood kin -"

"They're Death Eaters! They put him here in the first place!"

" - and a patient's spouse," Adam concluded, ignoring Mora's outbursts. His eyes narrowed upon the distraught brunette, not intimidated by her sudden fury. "Which you are not."

Just as she were about to lunge for Adam's throat, she took a step back. She stumbled, losing her sense of balance. It was like a razor blade had been wedged into Mora's head, and she was overcome with searing pain. The room began to fade around her. "No, not now," she moaned, grasping her head.

"Mora, Mora what's going on?" Adam asked with a new found panic. "What's wrong?"

"No..._please..._"

But Mora had no control. The healer fell to the ground, as another memory overcame her.

Snow drifted from the sky, pouring from the mass of cream clouds slowly. A group of girls raced through the wintry afternoon. They all wore identical, powder blue cloaks with matching blue boots and caps. Like some sort of uniform. They were young; eleven, maybe twelve. Certainly not in their teen years.

One girl darted ahead, packing a fistful of snow into her gloved grasp. Laughing madly, she spun around to face her companions. She threw the snowball into the air, and the girls scattered and dodged out of the way.

"_No fair, no fair!_" one girl squealed, in perfect, articulate French. The girl's bushy, bronze hair poked out from her cap, framing her round, pale face. Mora giggled beside her.

"_It's war then!_" Mora agreed, and she too, spoke in French.

"_Mallory,_" the second girl said warily. She gripped the sleeves of her cloak nervously. "_You know Madame Bryon__doesn't like it when we get all dirty playing outside..."_

The first girl flashed a wicked smile. "_Which is exactly why we should..._"

"_I wasn't talking to you, __Loraine__," _the third girl snapped. She turned back to Mora. "_Mal...?"_

Mora smiled sympathetically. _"Alright, we can go back to the dormitories if you want, Meg. Let's go."_

"_Awww, that's not fun,"_ the second girl sighed.

"_Of course we'll go back, Meg,"_ the first girl, Loraine, said with a devilish smile. She drew another snow ball from behind her back. "_Just after a little..."_

"_Don't, __Loraine__," _Meg warned, her soprano voice shaking slightly.

"_Alright, alright." _Loraine lowered her arm. Before she could say another word, a snowball whizzed through the air, making an icy print on hercloak.

"_What was -"_ but Mora didn't need to finish her question as Meg smirked a bigger smirk than Mora thought the brunette was capable of.

"_Gotcha_," Meg laughed.

Loraine leaned over, gathering as much snow as her short arms could support. "_War it is!"_

"Mora, Mora can you hear me?"

Mora groaned. She felt something cool on her face. Cracking her eyes open, Mora found herself on the floor, face down against the white tiles. Adam knelt beside her, his hand placed cautiously on her cheek. She focused on his expression, pulling herself back into the present moment.

"Oww..." she grumbled.

Adam breathed deeply. "You took a pretty bad fall," he explained. Quickly, he resumed his professional attitude. "Don't move, keep your head and neck -"

"Bloody hell," Mora muttered. "Adam, it's not like that. I'm okay, really."

"Mora, one moment you were about to rip my head off, and the next, you're on the ground. We don't know if it was a stroke, or -"

Mora suppressed a laugh. "I didn't have a stroke, you twit." Slowly, she turned onto her back. Bracing her weight on her hands, Mora moved to stand.

"No, you can't," Adam ordered, pushing her shoulder back to the ground.

Mora scowled. As she soaked in the sterile atmosphere of the hospital room, her mind raced back to their argument, to Adam's threats. "Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?"

Adam frowned. "You just passed out for a good thirty seconds. You're in no state of mind, you should be admitted."

"Admitted, like, as a patient?" Mora's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, _hell_ no!"

"There's a room, on the fourth floor in Jancie's ward, I can -"

"That's hardly necessary. I'm just a little weak. Saint Mungos shouldn't waste its fine, fine healers -" she spat the words, "- on me...like it would do any good. The fourthfloor? What would I be doing on ...?" Finally, Mora understood

"_The mental ward? _No, no, no!" Mora leapt to her feet, shoving Adam away as he tried to force her back down. "You are not about to -"

"Please see reason here," Adam interrupted.

"I passed out, Adam. That is no reason to say I'm mental!"

"No, but keeping yourself locked in this room, depriving yourself food, sleep, sunlight, _that_ is reason to check you in and have you examined."

"I'm not crazy." She meant for that to be assertive, intimidating even, but it came from Mora's mouth in a strained whisper.

"You're killing yourself here, Mora," the redhead said.

Not like one confined in the mental ward, Mora noted to herself. She hardly ventured there now, as a trauma Healer. She couldn't bear it, the hopelessness of it. For patients to be checked in there, it meant there was no magic to save them. They were cases beyond help, lost to the outside world. Lost in their own minds. If a patient spent more than seven days in the mental ward, which was the usual case, they were there for life. Just to walk through there, Mora had heard, reminded young Healers of rumors they have heard of a much different place, Azkaban. Mora half expected to see a half-dozen dementors creeping along the long-term patients of the fourthfloor, sucking the happiness from the patients and staff alike.

"You would do that to me?" Mora's voice cracked.

"If I think it will help you," Adam paused, putting his hands against Mora's cheeks. "Yes, I would. But if you leave with me, now, that won't be necessary."

Mora could imagine it. Adam, a high ranking healer, could arrange it in an instant. Despite her reputation, the respect she had earned in such a short time, they would take Adam's opinion over her own. If he, Healer Prewett, said Mora was insane, who would believe Mora's defense? It could be done in an hour, she would be committed, locked up, and Mora would never be free again. Just to keep her away from Sirius.

Just to keep her away from Sirius...

A thought crossed Mora's mind. And then another. Soon, a million different thought, memories, past conversations, stupid arguments, lurking suspicions, all wove together before Mora's eyes.

"You, being here right now ... it has nothing to do with Sirius," Mora said quietly. "You said it yourself, he's not concern."

Adam noted the change in Mora's tone. His face softened; he thought Mora was finally agreeing with him. He let a small smile of relief warm his solemn face. "You've always been my priority, Mora. This is hurting you, every second you keep yourself locked in this room, you're in pain. I'm here to save you, Mora."

Gently, Mora moved her hands over Adam's. His eyes grew brighter; did he think she was being affectionate? Lightly, she pushed his hands away from her face. She turned away from his confused expression, and took three, safe paces towards the door.

"No," she said dully. "You're not."

Adam knew it, Sirius knew it, so why had it taken Mora so long to realize it?

She spun on her heels to face him. "I'm not your priority, Adam. And you're not here to save anything. You're here to destroy."

"I told you, this has nothing to do with Sirius Black -" Adam defended.

"No, this has nothing to do with Sirius," Mora agreed simply. "This is about _me and Sirius._"

Adam said nothing.

"You can't stand the idea of me and Sirius, I've known that since we broke up. Since you decided to terrorize him every chance you had. The two of you are like bloody children..." Mora almost smiled, but composed herself once more. "You're not here arguing for my welfare. You just want to keep us apart.

"You hate Sirius," Mora seethed, "You hate him for living with me, you hate him for being my mate, you hate him for loving me. But the only thing you hate more than Sirius is the thought of me loving him back. Even when he's on his bloody deathbed -" Mora suppressed a sob. "- you can't stand me being so close to him."

Adam's calm, cool facade crumbled. He was no longer the sophisticated, concerned healer. Now, he was a madman.

_"Of course I do!" _he boomed. He strode forward, leaving less than half a meter of space between them. Mora held her ground.

"I've loathed Sirius Black since the day I met him. He's nothing but an arrogant, self-centered, idiotic, vain bastard! But I never really understood hate until I realized how much Sirius wanted _you._" Adam's eyes, dark and intimidating, flickered, reminding Mora of another's...

"You were mine, Merlin dammit! _Mine_, and he took you away!"

"I don't belong to anyone," Mora snarled. "I'm not something for you to own, Adam."

"You know what I meant, Mora. You know what he did -"

"For the last bloody time, he did _nothing!_" Mora roared. "I left you because I didn't want to be with you anymore. Because I didn't love you! For the last bloody time, I WILL NEVER LOVE YOU!"

"Stop lying!" Adam shouted. "Stop lying to yourself, stop lying to me, just stop!"

"It's the truth, for Merlin's sake." Mora let out a laugh, strangely shrill and foreign to her. "You really are one of the most stubborn and moronic people I've ever met. You'd rather believe you're own stupid, self-assuring assumptions then to believe I just didn't want you."

"So tell me, then." His words ripped through Mora like ice. "If you left me because of your own reasons, what are you doing here? Why can't you leave this git behind, why can't you leave him here to rot -"

"Don't talk about Sirius like he's not here!" Mora boomed.

"HE'S NOT!" Grabbing Mora's shoulders, Adam turned her to face Sirius' bed. He gripped her tightly to him, all the while forcing her to look upon her comatose friend. "That's what he is, Mora. Nothing but a body in a bed. He might as well be dead. You, a trained and gifted Healer, know that."

"He's not dead." But as she stared at his face, pale and unmoving, she couldn't help but doubt.

What if this was it? What if the rest of Sirius' life was confined to this bed, this hospital, this coma? What if he never woke? What would Mora do, keep to this impossible schedule of research and waiting? What if she never could hold him, kiss him, ever again...?

"In love," Adam mocked, "With a corpse."

Mora finally freed herself from Adam's grasp. She pushed him back, and turned to face him again. "When did this happen to you? When did you turn into this spiteful, vengeful -"

"When he," the redhead pointed an accusing finger at Sirius' sleeping frame, "took _everything_ from me. He destroyed everything -"

"You'll never listen, will you? I left you because I DON'T LOVE YOU! AND IT'S NOT BECAUSE OF SIRIUS! IT'S BECAUSE OF YOU!"

"Really, because of me?" Adam scoffed. "Then what are you doing here?"

"You want to know why I'm in this room, right here, right now?" Mora questioned.

Adam nodded.

"Simple. I love him.

"I love him, that's right, Healer Prewett, I'm head over heels in love with Sirius Black. And even if you order me out of his room, out of this hospital, hell, you can try to lock me up in bloody Azkaban if you want; but you'll never get me to stop fighting for him."

"Well, that's nice to hear."

Mora sighed. Adam had been right. Truly, Mora was driving herself mad. She should have expected that. For surely, she had not just heard his voice...

Mora looked back to Adam, ready for him to drag her off to the mental ward. But, with one look at the redhead's half-panicked, half-crazed face, Mora knew she had not imagined it. He had really spoken. He was here.

He was awake.

Mora rocketed on her heels, launching herself towards the bed. She didn't waste time with the chair, and without a thought pushed it out of her way. She leaned over his bedside. "S-sir-ius?" she said, despite her incoherency.

"Give me a second," he said, somewhat unsteadily. With a small groan, his eyes fluttered. After another moment of effort, they opened completely. "Hey there, beautiful." He smiled.

Mora felt like running, shouting, laughing, crying - she didn't know what to do first. But as she gazed into his stormy gray eyes, she couldn't move. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't even think. All she could do was look into his eyes. "You're, you're here," she sobbed. Sobbed? Mora found tears rolling down her face, staining her blouse. "Y-you're..."

And then she fainted.


	62. Open

62. Open

"Bloody hell..." she grumbled.

"Good to see you awake and well, Healer Ashford," a cheerful, familiar voice greeted warmly.

Mora's thoughts froze. Dumbledore?

She groaned, and the headmaster chuckled softly. Mora opened her eyes carefully, to the sight of the wizard perched on the side of her bed. His face was the way Mora remembered it from Hogwarts; warm, complacent. It was a relief, even startling, to see such an amused expression after a week of stoic suffering.

"What happened?" Mora asked groggily, gazing around her room.

"You fainted, Mora, in the hospital," Dumbledore recounted. "And I suspect you had another vision from your past? A memory?"

"Er, yeah." Even if Mora could hardly qualify that as a memory. Who were those people? This _Mallory _she had been seeing? She had recovered a vision of this girl, and Mora had no idea who she was. It was like Mora was her, living these events in Mallory's body, her perspective. Her thoughts were Mora's, her actions, her emotions.

Despite all these questions buzzing through her head, as she wonder who the bloody hell this girl was, Mora's focus shifted to the situation at hand.

"How long have I been out?"

Dumbledore hesitated, which Mora did not miss. "How long?" she repeated sternly.

"Three days, Mora."

"Why would you let me sleep here for _three days?_ For Merlin's sake, I should be working, researching, _anything _-"

"Calm yourself, Healer Ashford," Dumbledore said, his voice relaxed and cheerful. "You were in desperate need of rest; it was either here, or in your own hospital room, as a patient; and he certainly was not going to allow that..."

"He? Which he? Adam?"

"Mora, what do you remember?"

Mora sat up, still propped against her pillow. "I was in a patient's room ... Sirius' room," Mora's heart thumped uneasily as she said the name, "And, Adam was there?" Mora looked to Dumbledore for confirmation, who nodded.

"Go on," the headmaster encouraged.

"We were fighting," Mora continued, "And then...then I heard, I thought... oh Merlin."

"_Give me a second," he said, somewhat unsteadily. With a small groan, his eyes fluttered. After another moment of effort, they opened completely. "Hey there, beautiful." He smiled._

Mora didn't know if she could believe it. How could it have happened? Mora's rational side refused to accept it. No, it had to be some sort of wild illusion; a dream forged out of Mora's exhaustion and emotional turmoil. No, it was not true. She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't.

But there was a part, not matter how suppressed, no matter how disillusioned and recklessly hopeful, that needed to believe. The dream was so vivid, so heart-wrenching, so nauseatingly real Mora could barely stand it. It _had_ to be real. That rush of joy, the way the entire world stopped at the sound of his voice, the memory of his eyes finally opening after a week of pure agony...

Mora shook her head. "I've finally lost it," she mumbled under her breath.

"What is that, Healer Ashford?"

She cringed. "When I passed out, I must have hit my head or something. I thought I saw, I thought what happened ..."

"What happened?"

"I thought he woke up," Mora admitted. She sighed, covering her face with her hands. "Adam was right, I am mental."

"While I am not one to doubt a diagnosis of Healer Prewett," Dumbledore began, "This time, I feel I must disagree."

"Hallucinations are a pretty clear indicator of mental disorder. Don't think I can blame this on exhaustion...bloody hell..."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Mora?"

Mora dropped her hands slightly, letting her eyes peek out between her fingers.

"You are not hallucinating, Mora."

Mora's hands dropped. "What?" she asked shakily. "He's ... he's ..."

"Yes, Mora." His eyes sparkled. "Sirius Black is awake."

zszszszszszszszszszsz

"Merlin, would you slow down?" Emmeline called, dodging through the crowd of Saint Mungo's ground floor. "Mora, Mora ... EH! ASHFORD!"

Mora spun around, waiting for her short-tempered companion to reach her. As Emmeline drew closer, she snorted. "Bloody hell, Mora, we've been waiting a week and a half since the battle, you can wait another ten bloody minutes and walk at a human pace..."

"Sorry if I'm a little anxious, Em," Mora snapped. "Whether you understand it or not, this is sort of a big deal."

"Easy there," Emmeline advised. "No reason for you and me to be going for each other's throats..."

Mora clenched her eyes shut, pressing her fingers at the bridge of her nose. "Right, sorry..." Mora dropped her hand. "I'm just...I can't, it's..."

"Take a breath... I mean it, missy."

"Okay, okay..." Mora inhaled steadily, or at least as steady as possible.

"There we go," Emmeline smiled. "Better?"

"Eh..."

"Alright, now we can go. At a reasonable, non-sprint-ie pace."

Mora laughed under her breath, but it was strained, weak. As the two former Gryffindors entered the elevator, Mora felt terror take root in the pit of her stomach. Was she really here? Was this really happening? What would happen when she walked through the door, saw him lying there again? How could she -?

"Can't this bloody thing go any faster?" Mora snapped, prodding her wand at the buttons in aggravation. "I mean, it's a ruddy hospital -"

"Mora..."

" - lives to save and all -"

"Mora, please just -"

"- who can afford to waste valuable time in this stupid -"

"_MORA_!"

The healer looked to Emmeline, who placed a hand on Mora's shoulder reassuringly. "Even if the elevator takes an extra two minutes -"

"Two minutes too much if you ask me," Mora contested. "Or any other healer with half a brain."

Emmeline groaned, dropping her hand. Reaching across the cramped elevator, she snatched the wand right out of Mora's fist. "Let's just pause this for a sec," Emmeline quipped as a flash of blue escaped from Mora's wand. The elevator jolted, before coming to halt mid-floor.

"EMMY!" Mora protested, reaching for her wand. But the young journalist, far taller than Mora, held the wand out of the distressed healer's grasp. Mora struggled to reach her wand, yet could not pry it away. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

Emmeline looked unfazed, despite the cutting accusation of Mora's words. "Take another breath."

"I don't have time for this..."

"I just made time. Do it."

Mora groaned. "This is absurd. Start the bloody elevator already!" She clenched her hands into fists, her blue eyes narrowing angrily upon her former roommate.

"I'll keep you in here until you breathe like a stable, semi-calm human being," Emmeline threatened. "I wonder what the penalties are for holding a healer hostage...not too much jail time I hope. Not like it's going to stop me."

_Of course it won't,_ Mora scoffed to herself. _Apparently the States haven't changed good 'ol Emmy one bit..._

"So, c'mon now, are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard, violent, and mildly entertaining way?" Emmeline demanded, still somewhat playful. "Well, entertaining for me, that is," she added.

"I'm glad you find this so amusing, Em," Mora said flatly.

Planting her hands onto Mora's shoulders, Emmeline turned the girl to face her gently. "Listen to me, okay? Maybe?" Her tone had softened. "Okay. This isn't me trying to torture you, or keep you away from all this. It's just, this is going to be intense enough for you. I know there's no ruddy way in hell you can stay all level-headed about this, the first time we talked to him it was beyond sane, it was something out of a soap-opera if you ask me...of course, you have no idea what a soap-opera is, do you? Sorry, I'll try to limit the muggle references."

Emmeline paused, giving her a chance to compose her words. "You probably think we're all just trying to babysit you, right?"

"Excessively and unnecessarily," Mora answered instantly. But after watching Emmeline wince at the sharp remark, Mora recoiled. "I know it's because you all care, you care so much, but, I dunno, I feel a little..."

"Smothered?"

"Pretty much."

"Not the intent," Emmeline said. "Sorry about that. We're just trying to look out for you. You haven't exactly been yourself the past week...then again, I wouldn't be if anything happened to - But that's for another time. Anyways, just give me one, deep breath, and we'll be on our way."

"_Em..._"

"C'mon! Just one!"

"Fine, fine," she grumbled. Closing her eyes, Mora inhaled. To her surprise, her flaring nerves settled a bit. As she opened her eyes, Mora smiled slightly. "Satisfied?"

"Very." Emmeline flicked Mora's wand, and with the elevator lurched suddenly. Both women lost their footing slightly, slamming into the back wall of the elevator as it continued its ascension. In a matter of moments, the elevator's climb slowed.

As the doors slid open, Mora's once-suppressed nerves exploded inside of her. She stumbled onto the floor, thankfully half-empty and void of enough witnesses to her clumsy display. As her feet guided her towards her destination, across the route she travelled everyday for the past week, Mora tried to imagine what it would be like. What would he be like. If he was the same as she remembered him. If she was the same as he remembered her. If he would even want to see her, if this was some sort of a mistake, if -

"Mora, we're here."

Mora's feet had stopped moving at the sound of Emmeline's words. Yet as she pulled herself from her own apprehensions, for the first time she noticed the surroundings. The sterile, familiar hallway that was an identical match to nearly every other corridor of the building. The viewing window to the patient's room, now with the blinds inside closed so no one could see in, the door with the name etched besides it, and, to Mora's what Mora should have expected, the extended Marauder family. James and the thoroughly pregnant Lily sat on the bench across from the door, Peter standing beside them, and Reamus leaning against the opposite wall, all practically beaming at Mora.

Lily rose from the bench, instantly racing to hug Mora. She held the embrace tightly, despite the swelling stomach making the hug more difficult than pre-pregnancy days. "Hi," the redhead finally managed, her tone exuberant. Mora squeezed her back twice as hard.

"It's, we're, now... wow," Mora stammered as the two separated. Before she could utter another word, another attacked her with a fierce hug. "Hey Peter," Mora laughed out.

"Okay, group hug!" James ordered, as he, Reamus, Emmeline, and Lily joined in squashing Mora with affection.

"Okay, okay!" Mora smiled amidst the former Gryffindors. "We get it, we all love each other..."

"Well, we're a very touchy-feely group," Reamus pointed out as they released the hug.

Mora's eyes loomed back to the door, her smile faltering.

That door. That bloody, infuriatingly generic door. That was all that was separating them.

He was in there. Behind that door, in that room, waiting. In that bed, in that room, while they stood in the hallway without him. He was there, and he was _really_ there. Awake.

"Mora," James asked softly, his expression concerned, yet encouraging "Are you ready?"

_Am I?_

After all of this, the tears, the screaming, the fighting, the non-stop fighting to save him, fighitng to stay with him, fighting to admit her love for him, Mora knew she was ready. She was.

Mora nodded. "Yes," she answered. "Yes, for the love of Merlin, yes."

James smiled. "Okay," he said. "He's waiting for you."

Mora's heart nearly exploded out of her chest. Her legs felt like rubber, wavering beneath her. Her palms were slick with sweat, her stomach twisted, and her breathing became rapid. She tried to calm herself, but with the words _He's there, he's waiting for you_ burning through her mind, she was attacked by emotions; guilt, fear, hesitant joy, more fear, absolute terror...

"Oh bloody hell, Potter!" Emmeline snapped. "So much for the _no pressure involved_ attempt, you twit!"

"Well, it was fine until you started up, you -"

"Can we be civil, children, please?" Reamus said.

"I'm starting to remember what life was like without you here, Emmeline ... quiet. Not so frustrating."

"What can I say, the UK was lost without me."

"Both of you, _hush_!" Lily commanded. The two instantly fell silent. Turning away from the formerly bickering pair, Lily took Mora by the hand, guiding her forward three steps. Now, they stood directly before the room's entrance. As she released Mora's hand, the redhead beckoned, "Go, Mora."

zszszszszszszszs

The goblet smashed back to the dank counter with a sharp _clang._ "Another," the customer beckoned.

Eyeing the customer reluctantly, the bartender tapped his wand behind the bar. The bottle of firewhiskey levitated across the counter and towards the customer, then refilling the empty goblet for the fifth time in fifteen minutes. The customer lifted the goblet to his lips, draining it in one long swig. "Are you sure you can ...?" the bartender began.

The customer's eyes snapped up to the man, dark and crazed. "I'm bloody well paying you for it, aren't I?"

"Erm...yes, but, that's quite a lot for even -"

"As long as you get your money, I get my firewhiskey," he sneered. The customer revealed the wand under his robes, brandishing it in the air. "Or do I have to -"

"Fine, fine," the bartender recoiled. He retreated from behind the bar, across the pub, and through a door in the back.

Colton Bayard pointed his wand to the bottle the bartender had hidden. It soared into Colton's hand, who abandoned his goblet, ripped off the bottle's topper, and continued his solitary binge. There was no way this rotten day could get even worse, not even if -

Wrenching the bottle from his lips, Colton found reason to recant his last statement. "I don't remember us having a meeting set for today," Colton snapped as the hooded figure stood beside him.

"I think it best we relocate to somewhere more," the man under the cloak began,"..._discrete._"

"I'm a little busy right now..."

"Because drinking yourself into a stupor really takes precedence over this," the man mocked. He sighed, "Cole, either you come with me now, or -"

"Easy on the threats," Colton interjected, stumbling off his bar-stool. He followed the hooded man across the bar, into a back-room. The bartender had been lounging across two chairs, but stood to a frantic near-salute as they entered.

"Leave us," the cloaked stranger hissed. The bartender needed no further instruction, and darted from the room.

"Well," Colton cantered, gazing around the dank, closet-sized room. "I see the Death Eaters really are the epitome of class. Aren't they, Sev?"

The man dropped his hood, revealing the gaunt, pale face of Severus Snape. "I don't have time for small-talk, Cole."

"Then let's cut right to the chase." Colton lazily took the seat the bartender had just occupied. He hiccupped.

"You're drunk."

Colton ignored the observation. "Let me guess, you're here to shower me with accolades and praise. Right?"

Snape stiffened. "When you were given this assignment, you weren't supposed to be in for this long. The Dark Lord had meant you to gather what little information you could, assassinate the Prewett twins, and then get out."

Colton grinned sloppily. "And I did that bloody well, may I remind you," he slurred.

Snape rolled his eyes at the drunken remark. "Yet your work henceforth has been less than outstanding."

"Less than outstanding?" Colton echoed. "Less than outstanding? Do you know how much bloody information I've gotten for you? How many secrets am I there, intercepting for you? You little, ungrateful -"

"Do you think that infiltrating the enemy's ranks is really enough, Cole? Do you think that makes you worthy to be a Death Eater?"

"I haven't seen any of you lot try it, so yeah, I do... Or are you telling me you've got another man on the inside?"

"I can't tell you that, Colton. You know that."

"Bullocks," he sneered. "After everything I've done, not just for the Dark Lord, but for _you_, Sev, _you can't tell me_?"

"I can't divulge our secrets to any on the outside."

"I'm not on the bloody outside! For Merlin's sake, I may not have my brand yet, but I've been working for you lot since Halloween, does that count for nothing?"

"It might have, if you hadn't have gotten so bloody arrogant!" Snape raged. "If you hadn't have pulled that stunt in Diagon Alley, maybe we wouldn't have been having this conversation."

"Stunt? _STUNT?_" Colton was on his feet, his eyes, despite being glazed over, livid. "I've been working on that as long as I can remember. There's more power there than you can ever -"

"I didn't work, Colton," Snape reminded curtly. "The Dark Lord has no time for your toys."

Colton hiccupped. "That's no bloody toy, you -"

"Cole, It didn't work!" Snape shouted. "He's alive! Sirius Black is alive!"

"I've heard the merry news, but thanks for the reminder," Colton turned his back on Snape, his balance starting to waver. "But that doesn't mean... the hybrid is still... if _she_ hadn't bloody been there to save his worthless life, he would be -"

"The specifics don't matter. All that does, Colton, is that you tried, you failed, and now you're out."

"You can't do this to me," Colton sputtered. Sweat laced down his face as he spun to face his former Slytherin. "You - let me prove myself, I'll kill them, I'll kill them all! Just let me!"

"_SHUT UP!_" Snape bellowed. "Do you know how hard it was to save you, Cole? Do you know how long I had to negotiate with the Dark Lord, just to let you walk away with your life? He wants to kill you! He can't stand your failure, he was wary of your charge from the beginning, and now your failure merits your death! Even the sound of your name stirs hatred in him. Hatred, Cole, from _the Dark Lord!_ I don't understand it, I can't describe it, but it's a bloody miracle he's sparring you. So suck it up and run! Get out of this town, get out of this bloody country, and actually do something with your life!"

"_I am doing something! _I'm dedicating myself to the same noble cause you have, Sev, and I will not stop until every last mudblood get's what they deserve. Now ..." Colton trailed off, lost as he pieced Snape's words together. "Wait, _you_ negotiated with the Dark Lord for my life? _You?_ What makes you think you're so high in his ranks he'd ever..." he stopped, falling back a step. As he store back to his former best mate, his words coarsed with loathing and jealousy.

"Well, Sev. Looks like you've got everything I've ever wanted, haven't you?"

Snape's expression, once furious and savage, faded to a professional, business-like detachment. "Get out of here, Colton. You've got your life, don't throw it away by doing something stupid."

zszszszszszszszszszsz

It was as if a lifetime had gone by, yet not even a day had passed. So much had happened, and in a mere moment, there was calm. Then, the world spun round and round, faster and faster, daring to throw her off at any moment. Now, she was still. No more chaos, no more motion, not even a breath could pass from her lips. She was completely immobile. Serene even.

The hospital room, the room that held them prisoner, the room that served as her personal hell, was nothing but a room. Only four walls, a bed, and a few chairs. Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all. Nothing compared to what Mora saw now.

She could not move. She could not speak. She was rendered helpless, paralyzed. Her body no longer connected to her mind; although she must have resembled a statue, she felt as if she were floating, unhindered and untroubled. Her mind, once crippled with questions, doubts, fears, was not empty, but it was not all that important. For the moment, it was not silenced, but pushed away. Temporarily forgotten as she stood inside the hospital room.

She did not notice that the chairs had been moved slightly since her last visit. She did not feel the breeze as it blew through the newly opened window. She did not hear the _click_ as the door shut behind her. She did not feel her feet as she glided through the room. She saw nothing, heard nothing, did nothing; she _felt._

They pulled her, step by step. They did not waver as she slowly made her way. They were so much more than Mora remembered. More than she had dreamed of. It seemed like one of her dreams, a fairytale that she knew may never come true. But as Mora's feet suddenly stopped at the side of the bed, she knew they were real. They were really there. They were open. His stormy, gray eyes were open.

The world crashed over her. The calm, the peace, the absolute stillness shattered. A sob escaped from her chest, and her knees quivered, threatening to unhinge from her very body. An arm reached out to her; wrapping around her waist, it pulled her off her feet and onto the bed besides him. Cradled against him, she let her tears soak his hospital gown. His arms wrapped around her, holding her small, shaking frame against him. Gently, he took hold of her chin, raising her head to meet his own. His lips molded to her own, first sweetly, tenderly. But she could not hold herself back. Placing her hands around his neck, she pulled him closer, her lips hungry. This was real, _he_ was real. He was alive and awake, and there was nothing that would ever come between them again.

As their lips parted, he brushed a tear from her cheek. "Well," Sirius smiled, "That was a nice wake-up call."


	63. Reunion

63. Reunion

"Well," Sirius smiled, "That was a nice wake-up call."

"Oh Merlin," Mora sniffled, burying her face in his chest. "Sorry I'm such a blubbering idiot..."

"You? Nah."

Mora released another sob, muffled and softened against his chest. "I'm sorry, I ... this, me - you -"

"It's alright, luv, just let it out," he said, as strained cry escaped the brunette. She stayed there, in his arms, unable to contain herself. Emotion completely overcame her; she was exuberant, terrified, relieved, sorrowful; everything she had felt through this entire ordeal, every suppressed thought, silenced cry, and repressed terror poured out of her. She stayed there, in his arms, crying until every ounce of energy drained away.

After what felt like ages, her tears slowed. As her breathing returned to softer, normal pattern, she whimpered, "I thought I lost you."

His fingers trailed up and down her arm, tracing small circles against her porcelain skin. "I did too," he admitted softly. "Merlin, I never thought I'd be here, with you, holding you ..."

"But you are," Mora interjected, "You're awake, and that's all that matters...you're here," Tears streaked down her cheeks once more. "But you were almost gone."

"Hey," Sirius said, "Don't talk like that."

"But it's true!" Mora sprang up, a frantic expression overtaking her features. Sirius sat up to meet her eye level. "You could have..." She paused, noting the apprehension caught in his eyes. The worry. The _life_. "You could have left us - died, Sirius. Actually _died_. Merlin, what if you ... what if you didn't ..."

"Listen to me, Mora." Sirius took her trembling hand, his grasp solid and unwavering. "That will never happen. I will never leave you, ever." His free hand reached to Mora, holding the side of her face gently. "I will never put you through this, ever again. You hear me?"

"Promise?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Sirius closed the gap between them, kissing her deeply. As they broke apart, he smiled. "Is that a good enough answer for you?"

Mora wrapped her hands around his neck. "Not even close." She kissed him again, and again, until she had nearly convinced herself that she was, in fact, not dreaming. Once their lips had parted, Mora rested her head against his chest.

"While running the risk of being called a chauvinistic pig..." Sirius began, "Isn't the boy the one who's supposed to save the girl? Traditionally speaking, of course."

Mora laughed lightly. "There's not much traditional about us, is there?"

"No, you're not really one for the damsel-in-distress bit." He played with her hair gently. "Maybe that's why I'm so hopelessly in love with you."

"I don't think there's anything hopeless about us." Mora inhaled deeply; perhaps for the first time since the Diagon Alley battle. "Merlin, this rooms smells like linoleum and old hospital pudding..."

"Say that again."

"What, old hospital pudding?"

Sirius laughed. "No. _Us._"

Mora smiled. "You like that, don't you?"

"It's a bloody miracle if you ask me. You just happen to be the most stubborn person on this earth. If I had known nearly dying would finally get you to admit how you feel, I would have gone Death Eater-searching a few weeks ago..."

Mora leaned on her side, facing the grinning patient. A sudden frown covering her once relieved features, she pinched Sirius roughly on the arm.

"OW!" He grimaced.

"Not funny," she scolded

"Too soon to joke about, eh?"

"It will _always_ be too soon."

He shifted to his side to face her fully. "I don't think I'll ever be able to be forgiven what I put you through."

"What you put me through?" she echoed. "Sirius, this, it wasn't - you have no fault in this."

"Well, I sort of am the bloke in the bed. This fuss wouldn't have been as catastrophic if it had been some John Doe in my place."

She sighed. "Alright," she conceded. "Maybe I wouldn't have been as personally invested if it had been -"

"You're talking like a healer."

Mora frowned. "It's a defense mechanism."

"I figured." He sighed, and Mora noted the labored breath he took. He winced momentarily, yet masked the small moment of agony with another affectionate smile.

"Are you in pain?" she asked instantly.

"I'm fine," he insisted.

"Liar."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"You know this is going to go on for hours, don't you," he laughed.

Mora grinned, but the memory of Sirius' pained faced was not forgotten. "I should really let you rest."

"Don't you dare get out of this bed," Sirius warned, his hold upon Mora strengthening.

Her eyes narrowed disapprovingly. "You just woke up from a coma, Sirius," she said pointedly.

"Yup," he qualified. "Been asleep for days. All rested."

"We both know that a hybrid-induced comatose state does not count as sleep."

"Fine. I had nap about three hours ago."

"Sirius_..._"

He pulled her closer, a kiss silencing her arguments. He moved to her jaw line, then down to her neck. "I prefer this much more," he said between kisses.

"I really hate you," she laughed as his lips drew away from her skin.

"I can deal with that." He pulled her face closer to his own. "Just promise that you won't leave me."

"_Sirius_," Mora groaned, her healer common sense clashing with what she wanted. _Needed._

"Promise," he insisted, his lips claiming Mora's own for another, deep kiss.

"Fine!" Mora surrendered as their lips parted. "I promise. I won't leave."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

"Evereverever?"

"Sirius!"

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The front door of the Black home swung open, as its owner entered its foyer for the first time since the Diagon Alley battle. "Make way, make way," Sirius boomed, perched atop the levitating chair. "Here comes the king!"

"I think I miss comatose-Sirius already..." Remus mused as he followed behind Sirius, his wand guiding the patient's chair.

"Still not funny," Mora reprimanded, arm in arm with Emmeline as the stepped over the threshold.

The journalist laughed under her breath. "Honest though."

"I may tired, but I'm not deaf."

Emmeline shrugged. "Meh."

"Meh?" The chair lowered in the air until hitting the wooden floor with a small clatter. "That's all you've got? Meh? The States' are sure doing a lot for you vocabulary..."

"Yeah, well, I'll be back in the good 'ol U.S. of A. by tomorrow, be sure to keep that in mind..."

With Emmeline's contract with the New York branch of Witches' Weekly, she was obligated to finish out the next two years in America. After coming home though, seeing Sirius in his near-death state, the young journalist wanted nothing more than to put down her quill, pick up her wand, and in her own words: "Kick some bloody, worthless Death Eater arse." She felt as though she abandoned the Order, her friends, everything she had known, for a small bit of success and escape across the pond. Nevertheless, a contract was a contract. After many arguments, shouting matches, and finally Dumbledore arriving in the knick of time to talk her out of insanity, Emmeline agreed to serve out her contract. Over those two years, Dumbledore would arrange for Emmeline to act as the Order's eyes and ears overseas. She would make contacts with the American ministry as well as with several of Dumbledore's allies abroad. This post would have to do until Emmeline's return to London to fight alongside the Order in person.

The door burst open, and Peter stumbled in, his face white, his breath frantic. "Guys! GUYS!"

"Pete, what's wrong?" Mora asked quickly.

"There's - there's been an attack," he panted. "At the Mckinnon's...n-need to get there fast..."

"Merlin, Peter you're bleeding," Reamus said, concern laced in his voice, "You've already been over there then?"

"Well, erm, no," he admitted bashfully as Mora tended to the wound over his forehead. "When I saw Arthur Weasly's patrounus, that brought me the message, I sort of...tr-tripped."

"Won't be the first time, Wormtail." The group turned to see Sirius, wand at the ready, on his feet. "No time to waste, then. It's about time I got back in the game."

Mora turned to Remus, Emmeline, and Peter. "You guys go," she said in a hushed tone. "I'll try to get there as soon as I can. If I can't-" her eyes motioned back to Sirius, "-well, you know why."

The three disapperated from the foyer with three crackling pops, leaving Mora and Sirius alone. Mora turned to face to newly-awoken Auror. "So, what are we waiting for?"

"You're not going, Sirius."

"Very funny, mum." He swaggered forward, taking hold of Mora's hand. "We discuss my chores and bedtime after we get back, mmkay?"

"This isn't funny and it's not up for discussion."

"You're bloody hell right it's not," he retorted. Mora pulled her hand away. "It's my life, it's my choice. I'm going."

"You just woke up from a coma, Sirius. You need at least another week before you can even perform daily tasks with full strength. You are nowhere near physically capable of fending for yourself in a battle."

"While you stop talking like a Healer for a minute and listen to what I'm saying!"

"I've heard you, Sirius!" Mora planted a hand on the back of her head as she inhaled, trying to hold onto to some composure. "You want to dash off into battle, same old Sirius Black, right? Go running to the rescue, right? Back into danger so you can wind up in a hospital bed again? Or worse? So this time I'll have to scrape you off the battlefield and burry you as well -"

Tears were now running down Mora's face, much to her shame and dismay. "Hey, hey," Sirius cooed, taking her face into his hands. "It's still pretty soon, isn't it?" She nodded. "I don't want to put you through that again, ever. You know that. But I can't stay out of the fray forever."

"I know," she said. "Can you just recover first, then we can run into battle, guns blazing, together?"

"Sounds fair enough," he conceded. "But what's going to keep me occupied while our friends save the world?"

"I can think of something..." Mora smiled, pulling him closer until their lips met.


	64. Their Promise

64. Their Promise

As spring faded to early summer, Mora honestly believed she was floating through the happiest weeks of her short, rather complicated life. When Sirius lay dying from the hybrid, she thought she nearly drowned, suffocating under the weight of the tragedy. Trapped in shadows, surrounded by nothing but darkness and emptiness. Now the light was back, and she floated through the first days of June in a whirlwind of excitement and bliss.

Sirius was a wizard of many titles. Black. Pureblood. Blood-traitor. Muggle-lover. Padfoot. Ladies-man. Player. But no title gave him as much joy as his newest addition. The one that brought on a euphoric rush at the sound. A name that he had carried before, but one that never really meant anything. Not until now, not until Mora. Now, when he heard those two words, magically woven into one, common-place phrase, Sirius knew he never wanted anything less.

"Boyfriend?" Mora called from the foyer, the door magically slamming behind her. "I'm home!"

Sirius' heart leapt as he raced from his room. Running towards the stairs, he elected to slide down the banister, reaching Mora in half the time. "Took you long enough," he grinned, pulling her close. "Long day at the office?"

"Hospital is pretty slow this time of year, actually. Dragon pox and the usually rounds of maladies not seasonal," she managed to say between kisses. "Actually I had to catch up on all of my paperwork today; I can't bring any of it home to do since I can't bear to tear myself away from a certain boyfriend..."

"I can empathize with that," he smiled. "Apparently the ministry isn't exactly keen on its aurors having love-lives that take away from work-energy."

"Really? In addition to its stance against the Dark Arts, the Ministry of Magic is anti-relationship?"

"Well, more like Moody is anti-relationship," Sirius clarified. "He seems to think anything beyond office small-talk detracts from my _constant vigilance_."

"Then I'm sure he would really hate this..." Mora paused for a long, drawn out kiss. "And this..."

"Knock knock!"

Mora and Sirius broke apart, leaving her to shriek as the unseen visitors entered the house. "Door was open. Should be more careful if you want privacy, you lovebirds you..."

"Prongs, you little -"

"Make way for the mother-to-be," Lily laughed as she passed the threshold, clutching her swollen stomach, trying to conceal her laughter.

James grabbed her hand. "Aww, Lil, we ruined snog-fest."

"Right," Sirius groaned, his arms circled around Mora's waste. "So if you two could just go so we could get back to -"

"Oh no, I haven't seen Mora by herself in weeks for Merlin's sake," Lily interjected, "I want my girls night, so I'm getting my girls night. Boys out. Now."

"Well, better not mess with a Potter's fury," Mora agreed. She turned to Sirius. "I'll see you later, alright? Go play with the boys."

"Eh, Marauders' night isn't as exciting as it used to be..."

"Oh really? How can we spice it up for you, Padfoot? Moody and Wormtail are waiting outside, they're probably just dying to know."

Sirius snorted. "Unless you're the brunette that I'm madly in love with and want to snog the whole bloody night, it's not going to get much _spicier._"

"Okay, out! No snog-talk. Get out!" Lily ushered James and Sirius out onto the porch, shutting the door before either could get a word out in good-byes. "Well, don't just stand there. You promised me a night of girly Muggle movies and a pedicure."

"And if you've got the videos and the ability to make any sense out of that television-box-machine Reamus set up in the living room, I will not disappoint."

zszszszszszsz

"You know, for Saint Mungo's most prized young healer, I thought you'd have steadier hands," Lily laughed, examining her new manicure. "Merlin, I think you painted my fingers more than my actual nails."

"Hey," Mora interjected, "The pedicure is pretty bloody awesome, and you know it. The manicure is more ... abstract art?"

Lily's brow raised. "Abstract, eh?"

"Alright, alright, if you must insult my work." Mora waved her wand over Lily's drying nails, instantly removing the stray pink paint. "There, clean and perfect. Satisfied, Missus Potter?"

"Very much so," she laughed. "I know, my company is nothing compared to that of _Mister Black_..."

"Shut up," Mora giggled.

"I've never seen you smile so much in your life until these past weeks. It looks like your face is going to fall off sometimes, I swear."

"What can I say? I'm a girl who's helplessly in love. You know the feeling." Mora patted Lily's pregnant belly affectionately. "Clearly, you know the feeling."

"Speaking of love, time for our cheesy romantic Muggle movie!" With Mora's help, Lily waddled off the sofa to the television.

Mora watched the redhead fiddle with the VCR in awe. "Honestly, I don't understand how these Muggles do it. This is so beyond my household abilities."

"Mora, you just push a few buttons."

"Sure - but I'm used to just pointing a stick and saying _Abra-kedabra._ And poof! Everything's set up and ready for me. This? Much more complicated."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Alright, I've got it," she said triumphantly as the televison's screen lit up, animated with the black and white credits reading _Casablanca._

"Is this going to be boring?" Mora asked.

"I don't think so, but our taste in movies may not be the same," Lily wondered aloud as she reclaimed her spot on the sofa. Mora sat on the ground by her friend's feet, clutching a pillow tightly in her lap. "I'm just hoping you manage to keep your eyes open."

"Me? I'm not tired," Mora argued, "Not one bit!"

"Alright," Lily smiled. "I give you five minutes before the snores start rolling in, miss long-hours."

As the two turned to the movie, Mora couldn't help but feel her eyelids droop. At first it was rather easy to resist slumber's pull, but as the film progressed, the strength of her weariness became all too apparent. Soon, she was fast asleep.

Mora and Sirius ran across the grounds of Hogwarts, bathed in the sun's rays peeking out of the passing storm clouds. Clad once again in their Gryffindor uniforms, they ran unhindered as they would in their school days. The laughed as the raced, hand in hand, their bare feet against the silky grass. The reached a nearby willow tree. Releasing Mora's hand, Sirius winked before racing for the tree. He disappeared beneath its blossoming limbs.

"Sirius!" Mora laughed, calling after him. "Sirius, what are you doing?"

The tree seemed to shudder. "Sirius? You okay?" Mora waited, but her call met no reply. "This isn't funny," she warned.

"Come and get me, Mora," a voice teased playfully. "C'mon..."

"You asked for it, Black..." Mora forced a smile. She could not, however, mask her uneasiness as she crept closer to the willow. "Here I come..." As she pushed her way past the blossoms, she found the interior of the tree to be nothing but a maze of branches, much grander than she remembered the tree from Hogwarts. "Sirius? You here?"

"Have been this whole time."

Mora jumped as Marauder's head popped out from the leaves. "Merlin's beard, you nearly gave me a heart attack," she panted.

"Look here..." Sirius emerged from branch, his right fist closed around the object of his excitment. "Hold out your hand."

As Mora obliged, Sirius dropped a small, silver object into her palm. "It's a promise ring."

She examined the ring closely. It was two circles, crossing to form one. In the center of their merge, a silver shaped diamond lay. Tiny diamonds were beautifully adorned all around the band.

Mora felt her stomach drop.

"I love you Mora, I have all this time, and I always will."

While Sirius spoke them, Mora knew the words were not his own.

"Promise me..."

She had heard them, what had been a lifetime ago, from the lips of another.

"Promise you will always love me."

The ring turned to blood in her hand. Mora screamed, trying to swat the remains out of her palm in her panic. "Sirius, how did you get that -"

But he had gone, darted back into the tree, with the rattling branches proof of his retreat. "Sirius?" she called.

"Come and find me."

She pushed through the branches. Dodging each limb of blossoms and soft green leaves, she traveled further and further, until Mora was sure she was bound to come out of the other side. She fought further, convinced that Sirius awaited her on the other side.

"Come and find me, Ra."

Mora's heart froze in her chest. Her feet planted into the earth unsteadily. Breath caught in her throat, Mora turned slowly, fully aware of who awaited her.

He was exactly as she remembered him. Dark hair, strong features, sharp jaw line, dark, penetrating eyes; everything as if Mora had plucked him from her very memory. His Slytherin robes adorned his frame as she had recalled; the outline of his wand visible in his upper robe pocket. He smiled, the hypnotic pull of it much stronger than she had anticipated.

Tom Riddle smiled. "Mora," he began, his voice as soft as velvet. "Please..." He drew near. Mora knew she should run, scream, do something to escape. But she stood, transfixed, as he cupped her face with his hands gently. "I hate to see you cry."

"I love you Mora..." she heard in the distance.

"Sirius?" she questioned, as the Marauder's voice echoing the Slytherin's original words hung through the air. Lifting his free hand, Tom sent the branches of the willow ripping apart, until in the distance, two figures were revealed. To Mora, it appeared to be herself, in the distance, but truly herself; blonde and hazel-eyed. Beside her stood Sirius, the ring once again in his grasp.

"I have all this time," Sirius continued, the pair completely unaware of Tom and Mora's presence. "And I always will. Promise me...""

Mora's eyes shifted back to Tom. His hand slipped to her neck, until it sat gently on her shoulder. "Our promise?" Tom echoed.

Her heart raced as Sirius' vow to the second, blonde Mora continued. "Promise you will always love me..."

Tom's face, once the angelic expression that haunted her happiest moments of her sixth year, transformed. Livid, his eyes burned straight through Mora's soul. His hand shot up to Mora's throat, cutting off her oxygen supply as he shouted, "_OUR PROMISE?_"

"Tom, _please!_" she gasped out. He lifted her off her feet, and Mora attempted to use both hands to pry herself free. Cackling, Tom threw her into the air. The willow's enchanted limbs encircled her arms, her legs, her torso, slamming her against the tree's trunk and trapping her. Tom drew near, his eyes mad with rage. Struggling with her every ounce of strength, she managed to break her arms free. He moved closer, and closer, until her was a mere breath away. A smirk twisted over his lips. "NO!" Mora screamed, pounded her fists against his chest. "NO, TOM, NO!" He caught her hands and restrained her from her failed defense. "I won't let you! No, Tom! TOM!"

"NO! TOM! _TOM!"_

"Mora, MORA!" he shouted. "Calm down, it's me! It's Sirius!"

Mora opened her eyes, and instantly the willow tree fell away. She was home, safe and sound on her own living room floor, right where she had fallen asleep. Sirius knelt beside her, her fists clutched in his hands. "Hey," Sirius sighed, relief flooding his face. "You okay?"

Ashamed and still afraid, tears stinging her cheeks, she nodded. "Erm...sorry," she choked out.

"You don't need to apologize, ever, you hear?" He pulled her into an embrace. "I'm here, it was just a bad dream."

Mora clung to Sirius, letting her breathing take on a more regular pattern. "I know," she finally said. "Thanks..."

He stroked her hair tenderly. "It's alright..." Mora looked up, spotting Lily, James, and Reamus by the doorway; clearly they had been frightened by Mora's outburst.

"I'd like to know who the bloody hell this Tom is, and give him a ruddy piece of my mind..." Sirius said.

Mora's heart stopped dead in her chest. She store up at James, who gazed back in pure horror.

"Right, well, just a dream," Reamus began, coming to Mora's rescue. "Why don't we put Mora to bed? Working so hard she's having nightmares about her patients, right?"

Mora forced a weak, half-hearted smiled. "How'd you guess..."

"That's it, then? Nightmares about your most annoying clientele?"

She nodded thoughtfully. "Something like that." She rose to her feet, with Sirius' help. "I'm fine, really. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"You're sure you don't need help?"

"Sirius, my room's just up the stairs, I think I can handle it," she pointed out. Without further discussion, Mora wished half-hearted goodnights and hurried out of the living room, up the stairs, and safe in the solitude of her own room.

zszszszszszszsz

Mora rummaged through the parchment on her desk, grumbling as the chart she searched for continued to elude her. "I didn't come into work on a Saturday for this rubbish..." she muttered. A knock on her office door interrupted her search. "Come in," she called.

"Morning, Healer Ashford," James greeted cheerily as he entered the office, shutting the door behind him. He held up a brown paper bag. "Brought snacks."

"How did you even know I was here?"

"Well, the only places you ever go are your place, me and Lil's, or well, here. So, seeing as Sirius couldn't find you this morning, Lily couldn't find you this morning, I figured it would make sense to stop by the hospital so _I_ could find you this morning." He sat in the chair opposite of Mora's desk. He lifted the bag again. "Cinnamon pumpkin cookies. Your favorite. Don't pretend like you're not the least bit interested."

"It's ten in the morning, James."

"Yeah, well, a perfectly well-balanced breakfast." He handed her a cookie, and a smile spread across Mora's face.

"James Potter, you know the way to my heart," she lauded, taking the treat. "Merlin help your child, though, with your theories on nutrition, that's going to be one chubby little baby."

"We'll see," he laughed. Mora bit into the cookie, thankful for some form of food after rushing out of the house at the crack of dawn. "So, work on a Saturday, eh? That's an all time low, Mora, even for you."

The young healer rolled her eyes. "Your judgments are flattering."

"You're avoiding us."

"That wasn't a question."

"You didn't disagree though." James waited for a reply, yet Mora turned back to her paperwork. "After that dream, you're embarrassed, aren't you?"

"I would gladly trade embarrassment for whatever emotions I'm dealing with right now," she sighed. She looked up from her papers, into the eyes of her closet friend. "I'm terrified, James."

"You can tell me, Mora," he soothed. "What's got you so scared?"

"You know what," she scoffed, bounding out from behind her desk. "Merlin, I've been sitting on my arse for nearly two months, too far lost in my own little fantasy world with Sirius to remember who..." she trailed off. "I've gotten too comfortable, James. I've forgotten how delicate my situation is."

"Are you afraid of another tempari, you mean?"

Mora laughed shortly. "That would be a blessing compared to what I've been talking about."

James abandoned his seat, rising to join the distressed brunette. "Mora, you're safe. Nothing has happened to compromise your...your identity, has it?"

"Beyond walking around every day in broad daylight? No." She crossed her arms. "It's all too perfect, James. Healer Ashford, everything going for her: career going straight for the top, fighting in the Order without any incidents to put my 'identity' at risk, and now Sirius..." She stopped. "It just seems like it could all come crashing down at any moment, you know?"

"Well, I know where you can start to toughen up that foundation a bit," James suggested. "Although I'm pretty sure you've been considering it yourself for months now."

Mora sighed, turning her back on James and casting her eyes towards the office's small window. She knew she couldn't avoid this conversation forever. It had been eating at her for months, since her infatuation with Sirius began, then her faith in him built further and deeper than she had ever imagined it could, and now, she found herself in the whirlwind of the romance she had only dreamed of. She knew she had to do it. Sirius deserved it. He deserved it a year ago, when her trust became absolute in his loyalty. But once romantic feelings got in the way, tangled her intentions, her fear of his reaction overpowered her desire to tell them.

Mora cast her eyes to her desk. "I can't," she whispered. She turned back to her paperwork, "I just can't," she stated simply.

"Just like that?"

Mora slammed her hands down on her desk, her eyes glowing with fire as she looked back to the young auror. "Yes, James, _just like bloody that!_"

"He needs to know," he insisted. "You both need this."

"It's a death sentence." Her words were cool, pricking the air with cruel precision.

"Let him decide that, Mora," he responded with a softer tone. "If you just talk to him, give him a chance to take it all in, I'm sure it won't change anything -"

"It will change _everything!_" As Mora shouted the final word, the flower vase on the edge of her desk exploded. A cascade of razor-sharp crystal flew through the air, showering the floor around them. "Bullocks," she cursed as she knelt to the ground, sweeping the shards into the palm of her hand.

"Here, let me," James offered, pulling out his wand.

"I've got it," she snapped as he knelt before her. They gathered the pieces in silence. When they finished, James waved his wand over the pile of crystal, and the vase reformed without a single scratch upon its sparkling, enchanted surface.

"I know you all accept me," Mora said slowly. "I know the truth, my past...it doesn't keep you from standing beside me. But there is a difference between Sirius and the rest of the old gang, James."

"He loves you, Mora!"

"That's exactly it." She looked James in the eye. "Imagine evil. The thing that is destroying our world, our lives, everything we fight for, everything we protect. Now picture me. With evil. Kissing evil. _In love_ with evil."

"He was just a kid then, you both were -"

"HE WAS A MURDERER!" On her feet, she towered over James. Her frame quivered as she shouted. "He killed an innocent girl, just because of her blood. He used unforgivables without remorse. He tried to kill Eric Bayard right in front of me. He schemed, plotted, lied - the monster wasn't just inside him, it consumed him. It was him. It _is_ him. He has always been evil."

James stood, without words and without emotion. He did not know what to say, how to react, what was even going through his own mind. It was blank.

"He murdered my father, James. His followers killed off my entire family. His life's work is to eradicate the impure. He feeds off terror and death. He takes pleasure in torturing and destroying the _unworthy_, which most certainly includes us."

"That has nothing to do with you. You're not -"

"I almost was."

James' brow furrowed. "Mora...what?"

_...Mora, I did it for us, to save us..._

"He said he did it for me...that he killed for me. For us."

_...They've ruined my life, our lives. Do you remember, Mora?... Don't you remember, that orphanage you were trapped in? Do you remember how they treated you? Made you an outcast in their society? Treated you less than the dirt beneath their feet?_

"He thought he was making the world a better place. That exterminating the unclean would make him a hero. A liberator."

_...They've been doing it for centuries, Mora. They've been trying to destroy us, and now, they're trying to take over our world. They're everywhere, everywhere in Hogwarts. There's unworthy blood traitorous filth, all around us. They don't deserve our respect, they don't deserve life. If someone didn't stop them, it will never stop. It has to be done..._

"And he wanted me there...beside him..." Mora paused. "Had I not had a tempari, there in the lavatory in the middle of that confrontation, he would killed me, or maybe he would have forced me to stay with him, I don't even know...But that was supposed to be the end of the road for me. Mora Cartea died. Tom Riddle died. All that's left is Voldemort, and me, whoever I am. No one remembers Tom and Mora. That's the way it's been for thirty years, and that's the way it has to stay.

"But you're right, James. The lies will stop. Sirius has to know."

James' lips moved slowly, forming the words as if he hardly believed them to be audiable. "After everything you just told me, what you've been through, you want to come out of hiding?"

"No," she clarified, void of emotion. "I have to tell Sirius. Everything. I've known that for a long time. He deserves to know why..."

"Why what?" he ask softly.

"Why I have to leave him."


	65. Take A Look

**Hello all! Thank you for hanging in with me this far! And the end of our story is... still nowhere in sight**

**This installment (and the next) are a bit hefty; depending on the last time you read Lost in the Darkness(ze prequel) - which was probably a while ago, when you consider my glacial update pace - you may want to go back and refresh...*lighting flashes, maniacal laugh...maniacal laugh...***

**Read and enjoy! As always, reviews/messages are greatly appreciated...Thus concludes my ramblings! Hurrah!**

* * *

65. Take A Look

Weeks of bliss abandoned. The whirlwind of impetuous youth halted. An unyielding surplus of love and affection surrendered. It would end tonight.

He was coming home from the Ministry in one hour. Her trunk had already been transported to the Leaky Cauldron, with just enough clothing and essentials for a few days, before she could officially move out.

James had tried to talk her out of it. He wanted Mora to wait, to at least give Sirius a chance to digest what she had to say. Let him react. Let him understand. Mora would have none of it. It made no difference what his reaction would be. He could think nothing of it, he could be repulsed, he could react violently, angrily, affectionately, nonchalantly, fearfully, it made absolutely no difference. Mora had known, for the past year in a half that this was the way it would have to be. She had to be alone. No matter what she tried to convince herself, whatever she once so foolishly believed, there was no denying the truth.

One day, Voldemort would find Mora. And everyone who once protected her, hid her from him, defied him to stand with her, would die at his hand. She knew that it was a ridiculous prospect to ever believe she could live peacefully amongst the British wizarding population. Now that was a legal adult, graduated from school, and had some semblance of a career, she knew she could fade out, settle somewhere new and build up a life again. She knew healers were in high enough demand that she could find work just about anywhere. But she wasn't quite sure where she could go. Her first instinct was to the States. Hopefully the entire Atlantic Ocean's worth of distance would provide some refuge from her former life. But then she thought of France. She did, after all, speak the national language fluently, although she tried to keep that special talent secret. Not as far as the States, but perhaps easier to slip in obscurity. She would decide soon.

She wanted to stay and fight. To keep her post at the Order of the Phoenix. The battle alongside her friends, her colleges, towards a brighter future. She wanted to do everything in her power to take down Voldemort. But the cons so greatly outweighed the pros. Sure, Mora could stay and help put a few Death Eaters behind bars, but was that truly worth Voldemort discovering her and alienating everyone she ever cared for?

For now, the matter at hand was Sirius arriving home within the hour. He had to know, and then she had to go. Mora glanced at the clock, and sighed. She knew she had to sign off for the room at the pub early prior to her arrival. She had enough time to apparate there, settle that business, and apparate back. Without further contemplation, she slid out the front door, and disappeared into the early afternoon.

Moments later, another short pop echoed across the lawn. Sirius appeared, a wide grin plastered over his face and a briefcase carelessly flung over his shoulder. He started up the path to the house, whistling a happy tune.

"Home sweet home," Sirius smiled broadly.

He still hadn't the slightest clue how he had managed to do it (well, aside from his undeniable charms and charisma, of course) but somehow he persuaded Mad-Eye to let him off work the full hour early. If Sirius remembered correctly, Mora would be home from the hospital. That gave Sirius the perfect opportunity to rush inside, sweep her off her feet - the best surprise for his hard-working, overly stressed girlfriend. She certainly had been pushing herself lately. Double shifts left and right, going in on weekends, it was as if ever medical emergency just happened to land right in Mora's lap.

But as he reached the threshold, he found the front door locked. Fiddling with his keys, he unlocked the door first through muggle measures, and then with magic (double barrier protection Dumbledore had suggested for all Order members.) Calling out to Mora, only to hear the mingled echo of his own voice, he sighed. She was working late. Again.

No, she had promised earlier in the week she would definitely take this night off. Maybe she was napping? Merlin knew she needed it. The girl had been working herself ragged. He hurried up the stairs and then slowly creaked the door to Mora's bedroom open.

"Not here either..." he said.

Sirius was worried. These hours had to be cut down if Mora didn't want to live the rest of her life as the walking dead. The past week he had barely seen her at all; and whenever she did fall into the house, she was completely run-down and exhausted. She had to start taking it a bit easier. Sirius paced the room as his thoughts roamed even further. How was one supposed to go about this? _I'm sorry honey, but you need to stop saving so many lives. There's not enough "us" time._ Sirius felt sick to his stomach. Was he being selfish?

Trying to slow the cacophony of his mind, Sirius stopped pacing. With another great inhale, he tried to center himself. Yet when this attempt left him only feeling more jittery, he sighed and slumped his shoulders in defeat. Reaching Mora's desk, he reached to lean his hand on it. But what he touched was not the oak surface. It was not exactly wet, but some kind of liquid. He peered towards to desk, pulled out of his thoughts. His fingers now gazed the contents of a small dish, or bowl, of some kind. The liquid swirled rhythmically in some form of enchantment. Perplexed, Sirius leaned in closer. He knew he had heard of this sort of contraption before. But they were supposed to be much larger, he remembered. Sturdier, made of stone or something. This looked like Sirius could shatter it with ease. He focused on his memories, but couldn't pull up what this item was. Then, something in his mind clicked.

"A pensieve," he recalled.

_Great, a pensieve. But what the bloody hell does it do? _He thought through his agitated state. Suddenly, Sirius felt a tingle t his fingers in the pensieve. The tingle soon made way to a tug, and without warning, Sirius felt his entire body heaved into the pensieve.

Sirius was falling at great speed, through the air, through nothingness. He hadn't meant to do it! It just sort of _pulled_ him in. As he neared to ground, whatever it may be or whatever was waiting for him, scenery took form around him. It was no longer nothingness. But the stony, dark corridors of Hogwarts castle. And then Sirius remembered. A pensieve. A device for storing memories. Sirius crashed to the floor, landing sourly on his side. Groaning, he straightened up, only to find two figures before him. On, male by the looks of it, covered in a uniform Hogwarts robe, had his back to Sirius. The other lay across the floor, also hidden from view. Perplexed, Sirius drew closer.

"You're safe now," the boy said.

"Who are you?" the girl whispered. She rose to her feet, rocking dangerously from side to side as she did. Sirius finally got a good look at her face. He stumbled back a pace.

He knew her. He _knew _her. Every single inch of her. Or, at least, he thought he did. It was as if someone had taken her, piece by piece, and reconstructed her in this very corridor.

But, no, that wasn't her - it couldn't be. She was blonde, for starters. That wasn't right. And her eyes - yes, not the bright blue eyes Sirius had expected. He breathed a small sigh of relief. No, this battered, bruised girl was not the woman he loved. But then who the bloody hell was she?

"Tom. Tom Riddle." He, Tom, stood, and managed to grab the mystery girl before she had the chance to hit the ground again. "Who are you?"

Sirius drew closer, the undeniable resemblance getting even stronger.

"My name…." The girl began, "Is…Mora."

"No bloody way..." Sirius mumbled. But before he had the chance to investigate further, the memory melted to black. In an instant, the room reformed. Now, the Marauder stood in the center of the Hospital Wing. The beds that lined the infirmary were bare, the sheets pulled tightly and neatly. Upsetting the pristine, untouched setting, was the final bed on the far right. The blankets rumpled and tossed, the occupant clad in the traditional, unflattering blue and white pinstripe pajamas, the girl - Mora - sat upright, with a visitor waiting at her bedside.

_Mora_, Sirius' mind beckoned. He hurried closer, the fact that he was snooping through someone's hidden memories lost to him. His gray eyes narrowed upon the patient. The sight of her took his breath away, even when she was bandaged and bruised, even when she was draped in dowdy hospital wing garb. How could this not be his Mora? How could anyone but her elicit such a response from him? His heart lurched harder and harder with each step. He knew it in his heart, his gut, that this girl, this memory, was of his own Mora. But his head couldn't make heads or tails of it. She was at Hogwarts - she hadn't transferred in until their seventh year. She was with this, this Tom - Sirius had absolutely no recollection of him, and after seven years of boarding together, one tends to recognize every bloke in one's year. And of course - the hair, the eyes. Sirius had absolutely no inkling on what that was all about.

Sirius reached the pair, taking the seat on the opposite side of the bed, facing Tom. He noted the Slytherin insignia upon Tom's robe, and sneered. Waving a hand before the snake's face, Sirius confirmed his theory: Here, in the pensieve, no one could see him. He was invisible to those acting out the memories.

"Fine," the Slytherin, Tom answered tersely.

The girl looked back, cutting through boy's ambiguous reply. "Really?"

_Oh yeah, that's my girl_, Sirius thought, sharing a small moment of delight. _No one else could cut through bullocks like my Mora._

"Well, honestly, not really," Tom sighed, making a slight smile spread across Mora's face. "All day I've been waiting…well, waiting just to see you again."

Mora looked back to Tom, pulling her hair behind her ears. "I never got the chance, to thank you."

"Mora," Tom started, "You don't need to…"

"Yes, I really do...If you hadn't found me there, well, honestly I don't know what would have happened to me." A tear strayed across Mora's cheek.

"Mora, I'm sorry, I…"

"No, no, please! It's just that…it's just…"

"Mora, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want you."

"No, I think I need to tell you." She took a deep breath. "I have no idea how I got here last night, Tom. I can even remember where I had been that night before I woke up in that corridor. And the truth of the matter is…I can't really remember anything at all from before I woke up here. And until you had asked me, I didn't even know my own name."

Sirius' posture went rigid. He didn't know what to think, what to do. He could only sit, staring through the memory-Mora, as if his gaze could pull the truth from the illusion. No memory? That wasn't his Mora. No, she well...she never explicitly said she wasn't suffering from amnesia, but that's not something that came up in conversation - what the bloody hell was Sirius doing? Trying to make sense out of this insanity? Nothing fit, nothing would align. Past and present, two completely different worlds.

"Then," she continued "these two wizards were here this morning, and they were asking me all these questions. And one had me use a shielding charm. And if he hadn't done that, I would have no idea that I was a witch."

"Bald man, weird reddish beard?"

"Yeah. Him and another one. The second man was younger, glasses..." Mora trailed off.

"Dippet and Dumbledore," he said softly, naming the two wizards.

_Dumbledore! Someone who knows what's going on!_ He couldn't help but feel some small relief at the sound of the headmaster's and leader of the Order's name. Yes, if Dumbledore was about, things would be put to right.

Two things made sense. Firstly: pensieve in Mora's room, images of a strikingly identical girl, same Healer Ashford flare. This was Mora - his roommate, his girlfriend, his family. Second: school uniform robes, the hospital wing, the all familiar corridors, Dumbledore. They were in Hogwarts.

Yet those same two things left a myriad of questions: If this was Hogwarts, when the bloody hell was this? Dumbledore was there, but so was this Tom kid, whom Sirius had never seen. Then Mora was there. She had transferred in their last year. She had never been to Hogwarts before that. And she certainly hadn't been a blonde.

Alright, Sirius conceded that nothing made sense. Instead of trying to analyze every word and detail of the memory, Sirius thought maybe if he just observed, the right answer would come to him. If he let these memories guide him, the truth would reveal itself.

_Yeah, maybe..._

The scene faded, morphing into the grand doors. Beyond them, the Great Hall, if Sirius' memory of the castle was the same as the pensieve's. Tom and Mora stood before Sirius. Both were clad in Slytherin attire. Tom led Mora into the Great Hall. "Impressive, eh?"

"You could say that…" Mora said, staring up at the enchanted ceiling. Sirius followed the pair to the furthest table, the Slytherin table. Just the thought of Mora sitting there, with _them_, and a flame leapt inside of Sirius' chest. Tom and Mora reached a group at the end of the table, and greetings were swapped.

"Er, sorry...Everyone," Tom began, turning the attention to the blonde, "this is Mora. She's …. new here. Mora, this is Eric."

"_Bloody hell!_" Sirius shouted. He forced his way through Tom, walking through the Slytherin as if he were a ghost. Sirius stood mere inches away from the table, from Eric. From the snake with the narrow, honey eyes. "Bayard," he spat. "Colton Bayard, you bastard!" The memory-Bayard, of course, did not respond to Sirius outburst. Instead, he smiled at Mora, a smile Sirius would very well like to curse off his demented, spoiled little face.

_It's Colton, it has to be!_ Sirius reasoned. He would never forget that sniveling coward's face. He was sure this memory, this _Eric_, was him.

The introductions continued, but Sirius paid no attention to the others. He picked up on a few names; Ellery, Korbin Avery, Cassidy Roiser, Jades. A few familiar surnames, the pureblood titles one would expect in the Slytherin crowd. But still, not a single classmate of Sirius' Hogwarts day. Not one peer, except Bayard.

He should have been rotting in some cell in Azkaban. He should be suffering a thousand times over for the pain he caused Mora. Hell - he should be dead. But there he was, a free man, sitting an arm's length away from Mora. Looking at her. Talking to her. Smiling at her. Thinking about her.

The scene melted once again, dissolving Bayard along with it. The floor fell out from under his feet, never to reform. Whisks of clouds replaced the sturdy, stone walls. Sirius' legs flayed through the air in a panic. Despite his terror, gravity did not take its hold. His movements slowed, and he floated with more ease. The roar of a crowd rumbled through the sky, and a figure soared past him in a flutter of green and silver. Was it a dragon? Some other monster? No, not a monster- a broom.

"Quidditch?" Sirius wondered.

Yes, it was Quidditch alright. The massive stadium outlined the horizon, and Sirius was surrounded over a dozen students whizzing through the sky - the pre-game flights, Sirius supposed. Glancing below him, Sirius spotted the familiar mass of blonde hair. Rather awkwardly, Sirius wriggled his arms, eventually managing with much effort to sink below to reach Mora. Decked out in traditional green and silver Slytherin robes, she sat poised on her broom, one hand firm on the handle, the other gripped a beater's bat.

Sirius' heart fluttered. Beater's bat. This memory, blonde, mystery-Mora was a beater. Yet another sign that the star of these visions was in fact his girlfriend, his best mate, his Mora.

Tom flew down beside her, in the matching, uniform Quidditch attire.

"We love you _Om Om_!" a group of students shouted. This excited set of squeals reached the two, and Tom's flushed to a light crimson.

"_Om Om_?" Mora asked, gritting her teeth in an attempt to stifle her laughter.

"It's…a name they all came up for me," he explained as Mora burst into merciless laughter.

"Nice Mora. Real nice...Well how'd you feel if people started to call you…uh… Ra Ra!"

"Then Ra Ra it is!" Mora laughed back

"That was random," Sirius mused as the sky disappeared and a vacant corridor formed around him, as did the form of one, trembling girl. Mora, clad in rather dowdy pajamas, faced him. Her eyes - hazel, Sirius noted, _hazel_ eyes - widened in terror. As she screamed, Sirius spun on his heel, ready to face the source of Mora's fear. No fiend, no monster; just a message written across the stone wall. The red paint - blood? - trickled down to the floor in slow, inky drops.

_**The heir of Slytherin has returned to finish his noble works,**_

_**Their blood will forever stain the wall of Hogwarts**_

_**One by one**_

Sirius pulled his eyes from the message, only to see Mora now in the arms of Tom. He held her close, and she shivered in his grasp. "Mora, no one is going to hurt you. I'm here. I'm here."

The Slytherins vanished, taking the corridor and the ghastly message with them. They soon reappeared, in a dormitory by the looks of it. They were fighting, or at least they looked like they were. As Mora tried to fire another spell, Tom easily disarmed her - he might as well have rolled his eyes, he did it with such bloody ease. It unjustifiably infuriated Sirius. Mora was a good dueler, a _damn_ good dueler, and for this Tom fellow to just disrespect her like that..._Bloody git_, Sirius concluded.

"Now will you please listen to me!" Tom shouted

"And what if I don't?" Mora mocked. "Are you going to hurt me Tom? Isn't that what you do?"

"Mora, I would never….no, not you….."

"Save it, Tom!"

"You just easily beat up your supposed _best mate_, just to put on a show for all those vultchers!"

Sirius felt a red flag go up in his mind. Tom wasn't sounding like the most balanced fellow.

"Is that what this is about?" Tom asked, "Is this because of what I told you, about Salazar Slytherin?"

"No Tom, no that's not it," she yelled, daringly stepping forward. "It's that those those…monsters! They just cheered you on! They screamed for more innocent people to be killed! And why? C'mon Tom, tell me why!" she roared. "No, spit it out Tom!"

"_FINE_!" Tom boomed. "They're filthy mudbloods, the lot of them! They don't deserve to live!"

The dorm morphed into a Hogwarts corridor. But there were no crowds of students, no fluttering of robes, no buzzing of the day's gossip. The torches lining the walls hazily illuminated a strange pair. Mora, in a delicate, champaign-colored gown, crashed against the stone wall. Her attacker, polished in fancy dress robes, charged her, bringing a hand to her throat. "So, did you think that all was funny? Did you enjoy our little show?" he sneered.

Fire charged through Sirius' veins. "BAYARD!" he roared.

"Eric, put, me, down!" Mora demanded, terror ringing through her voice. Bayard obeyed, but replaced his hand at her throat with his wand. His arm jerked, a Mora soared through the air, slamming into the corridor's opposite wall. She slid to the floor, into a huddled, shivering mass.

Bayard came to her side, his honey eyes glowing through the darkness. "You know, Mora," he snickered, "This would have to be much worse if I didn't fancy you so much." He threw himself on top of her, laughing as she thrashed beneath him.

"Get off me, you pig!"

"Not a chance my dear." Eric's lips claimed Mora's in a rough, intense kiss. The second he pulled away, Eric began ripping away at Mora's dress. She screamed and screamed until he kissed her once again, muffling away her cries.

"If you have plans on getting out of this alive, I suggest you shut the hell up!"

".Hell." she spat, but not after spitting in his eye. Eric slapped Mora across the face, hard, and the crept his hand under what remained of Mora's dress.

_She needs me_, Sirius' mind screamed. _She needs me right now!_

But he could do nothing. This was a memory; here Sirius was a mere figment. He could try to pry Bayard off of her, beat him to the ground, literally _kill him_; Sirius would give anything and everything in that moment to. Merlin, he had to bloody _do something!_ He couldn't just stand here, watching as the girl he loved - even if she was currently a blonde in some parallel universe of Hogwarts - in pain. Watch her scream. Watch him overpower her. Watch him rape her. Sirius had to do something, something _now!_ There wasn't a second to lose -

But as Sirius charged the Slytherin, what he dreaded came to be. He slid right through the attacker, like he was a ghost, like he was nothing but air. Sirius crashed to the floor beside them.

A spell hit Bayard dead-on, in the back of the neck. Screaming in pain, he tumbled off of Mora. There, wand in hand and eyes full of fury, was Tom.

The scene disappeared. Sirius rose back to his feet as Mora reappeared, in much better shape than the last memory. She and Tom were on the grounds of Hogwarts, beneath an old willow tree Sirius had passed perhaps a million times.

"So, the real reason I dragged you out here," Tom began, pulling a small pooch out from his robes. "Here," he said extending it to Mora. "Open it."

Slowly, Mora opened her hand, letting silver ring fell into her palm. It was two circles, crossing to form one. In the center of their merge, a silver shaped diamond lay. Tiny diamonds were beautifully adorned all around the ring, sparkling into Mora's hazel eyes.

"It's a promise ring," Tom said.

Instinctively, Sirius' fists clenched by his sides. _Promise ring, bloody hell, what a pratt..._ Sirius groaned to himself. Yes, Sirius had just seen this Slytherin save Mora from Bayard. Yes, Sirius was more than thankful to Tom for that, for doing what he was unable to do. Tom protected her when Sirius failed to do so.

But, come on now, a_ promise ring_? What, was he proposing to her? Sirius didn't like that one bit.

"Mora, please just promise me," Tom started, taking both of Mora's hands. "Promise me that you will always be able to trust me. That nothing can ever stand between us."

Brows pulled together, lips quivering, Mora's face was clearly conflicted. "Tom, I want to say yes. But I can't, I just can't!"

Sirius perked up a bit. _See, knew she wouldn't go him,_ he thought triumphantly. _That's my girl._

"Why?" Tom demanded

"Because, because I've been hiding something from you," she admitted. Mora lifted the left sleeve of her robe, revealing bruises in a cascade of purple, blue, and green. Sirius felt his stomach drop.

Gently, Tom grazed his finger over one of the marks, causing Mora to wince a little. Terrified, he removed his finger. "He did this to you," Tom said darkly. "When?"

Mora inhaled, reluctant to begin. "Remember that day when I said I left my book in potions?"

"Did he…hurt you?" Tom asked. Mora said nothing. "Merlin, Mora what did he do to you!" he shouted.

"What do you think Tom?" Mora snapped. "He hurt me, he dragged me across the room, he kissed me. Does that answer your question?" Mora yelled back, angered by Tom's sudden tone.

"Why didn't you tell me Mora? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!"

"Because of this! Because of exactly what you're doing. I didn't want to hurt you..."

"Hurt me? Eric could have waltzed right into your room and do Merlin knows what, and _I_ would be hurt?"

"Tom, just listen to me!" Mora pleaded, but it was too late. Tom had already stormed away, throwing the ring into the mud just as the skies opened and the rain began.

Mora ran after him. "Tom, just wait a second for Merlin's sake!" Mora shrieked out. Tom stopped, even though his back stayed turned to her.

"Do you really want to know why I didn't tell you Tom?" she yelled out. "I'm scared."

Tom turned around slowly. His scowl vanished; his eyes were now full of guilt. With love.

_Bloody hell_..._Stupid git loves her. _There was no denying it. That little puppy-dog look said it all. "Dammit..." Sirius mumbled.

"I'm scared," Mora said. "I'm scared of Eric. I'm afraid that if I even step outside, he'll be there. Waiting." Her words slowly transformed into sobs. "I'm scared of what you'll do. I know that now that I've told you, you'll go after him."

"Someone's got to teach that cocky bastard a lesson," he sneered.

"By hurting him?"

Tom's turned his back on Mora. "That's not enough."

"By killing him?"

"So be it."

"And you just don't care?" Mora started. "You just don't care that you'll be a murderer? You don't care that you'll be sent to Azkaban to die? Is that it?"

"And why would you care?"

"Because I love you, you idiot!"

The world stopped. Sirius did not breathe; his heart stopped dead in his chest. Alright, perhaps his reaction was irrational. Perhaps Sirius had no grounds to respond like this. Perhaps he was completely out of line for feeling so strongly. He didn't own Mora; it was completely misogynistic, uncalled for, absurd, inappropriate, ridiculous, cruel, and overbearing. He had no right to feel this way. He had no right to feel jealous. He had no right to feel betrayed. But even with all these rationales, it all stung just as much.

Tom turned around slowly. "What?"

"I said…..I love you," Mora repeated. The words dug into Sirius deeper and deeper, harder and harder.

"I love you, and if you were to be taken away from me, I would have no reason at all to even live anymore."

Tom approached Mora slowly, taking her head into the palm of his hand. "Mora, please, I hate to see you cry."

"I love you Mora, I have all this time, and I always will." Their lips collided into a long, passionate kiss. Sirius wanted to look away, give them some privacy - no, give himself some sort of reprieve. It had nothing to do with them. He needed a break. As the pair separated, Tom pointed his wand at the ground, causing the promise ring to speed out of the mud and into his hand. Storing his wand away, he took Mora's hand, sliding the ring onto her finger.

"Promise me you will always love me," he whispered.

"I promise," Mora smiled, pulling Tom back into the kiss.

The scene faded. _Thank Merlin_... Sirius thought, _Let's hope this vision is a little less with the snogging..._

But as the new scene formed, Sirius would have much rather been back under the willow tree, back on the familiar grounds of Hogwarts. Anywhere but this tiny, cramped, damp-smelling room. A broom closet - he was in a bloody broom closet? Why would he be in a broom closet? Maybe there _would_ be more snogging...

_Oh no, definitely not a snog-fest vision_, Sirius reprimanded himself as the rest of the memory formed. A girl, around thirteen or fourteen years old by the looks of it, absolutely terrified. Blonde hair askew, hazel eyes blotchy and red, the girl pressed her ear against the door. "Mora..." Sirius realized. She didn't respond, of course. With no other avenue to explore, Sirius followed the young Mora's suit and pressed his ear against the door.

"What?" a voice from the other side of the door mocked. "Darryl Cartea, I think you fail to realize that the Dark Lord is in your presence."

Sirius' heart froze. _Voldemort. Mora's memory of Voldemort. _The idea was numbing. On one side of the door, crouched a terrified, quivering little girl, and on the other side, the most powerful, evil man that had ever lived. The two couldn't seem farther apart to Sirius, but now, there they were, the only thing separating them a thin, oak door. How the bloody hell had Mora been swept up in this?

_...They were murdered, my sister and my two brothers, by the Death Eaters. Then Voldemort killed my father more than two years ago..._

"Oh no," Sirius mumbled as he began to connect the dots. "Oh bloody hell, no..."

"You are no Lord," another man beyond the door argued. He sounded older, strong. "Not of anything. You -"

"Now, a little too bold are we?" Voldemort's voice hissed.

"How is it that a man can come back from his very grave?"

"By being more than a man - Now, let's cut to the chase. I tire from your indifference. And so do my…associates."

"How _dare_ you even mention the scum that killed my family!"

_Oh bloody hell, please don't tell me this is really what I'm hearing..._ Sirius' mind raced. The scum had to be the Death Eaters - they were the lowest form of life and poorest excuse for wizards as far as Sirius was concerned. That killed her family...Mora's siblings, Sirius concluded. They were already dead. Then this man, this Darryl, had to be Mora's father. Darryl and Voldemort in a room together. What Sirius dreaded was certainly unfolded on the other side of that door.

Voldemort's murder of Mora's father.

"Pity though, they never caught up with the one we want," Voldemort continued. "Your silly little family got in the way. But now that they're out of this sweet little blood traitorous picture, maybe you'll understand with some reason."

"And what would that be?"

"Like getting out of this with your life, Darryl," he hissed darkly. Wait, Voldemort, bargaining? That didn't seem right to Sirius. "In exchange for the one thing I came here for."

"You will not even touch her. You're too late," Darryl said bravely. "She's long gone. History is bound to take place, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Ah, I see the Order has finally come upon your identity. It took them half the century to, you have done a fine job hiding yourself for this long, Daryl, you truly have" Voldemort snipped. "And I can tell, you are an honest man, Darryl. For it is the honest ones, who lie the worst."

There was no reply. Sirius' breathing slowed, his ear pressed harder against the door. His eyes locked upon the young Mora beside him. She was shaking, shaking from head to toe, each quiver threatening to knock her off her feet. Her hazel eyes widened in horror.

_Merlin,_ Sirius thought. _This is it._

"This is your last chance, Darryl. Where is she?"

"Rot in hell," the father shouted. "For I am sure the devil is waiting for you there."

There was silence; a sickening, stomach-churning silence.

"Then death it shall be. AVADA KEDAVERA!"

There was a crash, a thump, and the silence once more. Mora crumbled to the floor.

Tears streamed down her face, and Sirius could tell it took the young girl every ounce of control she could muster not to break into cries of anguish. She tried to stay composed. Tried, bravely so, but wasn't able to remain hidden. Trying to stand to her feet, Mora's foot collided with a bottle, the crunch of glass making Sirius' heart stop dead in his chest. The sound echoed through the closet, beyond the door, and into the ear's of the killer.

"Ah, so that's where you're hiding."

Frantically, Mora rummaged through the closet, through a pile of bottles, much to Sirius' confusion.

"Alohamora."

Just as the door swung open, Mora lunged towards whatever she had been looking for - a bottle, a half-broken, glass bottle. And then she disappeared, taking the bottle, and the memory, with her.

zszszszszszszszszszszszszs

With a soft pop, the weary healer appeared on her doorstep. Mechanically, she went to unlock the front door, both with muggle and wizard measures, and slipped inside. These motions were imbedded, habituated to the point of instinct. Wand clutched in the right hand with the muggle key, she would shut the door with her left after sweeping inside, locking up from the front hall, then placing the muggle key on the end table by the door. Mora went through these motions day in and day out. So when something disturbed this little routine, she took notice. If one of the door's bonds were undone, she was alarmed. If she held the key and her wand in separate hands, she fumbled when she tried to close the door, and was flustered. If a small gray key awaited her dull gold key on the end table by the door, he was home, waiting for her, and she was blissed.

Today, however, when this routine was disrupted, Mora froze. The door was unlocked. Had she forgotten to secure it? She never forget that; it was the most simple bloody security measure the Order made them all prescribe to. Forgetting that was just embarrassing. Was that it. just a slip in Mora's mind? Or had someone arrived while Mora was out at the inn? Was he home?

_Please_... Her head throbbed. _Please, not that..._

Shuffling inside, she bound the door securely behind her. Then, as she turned to place her key on the end table, dreading the spot the small gray key, she found nothing but the empty oak surface. Sirius, then, had not unexpectedly returned. She was alone. Mora exhaled, what had meant to be a sigh of relief, yet came out a strained wheeze. She was alone. She was safe.

And she began to cry.


	66. Pensieve Panic

66. Pensieve Panic

The scene reformed around Sirius; the tight, terrified broom closet morphed into a dark passageway in the Hogwart's dungeons.

Sirius sighed, scratching the back of his head. "You sure spend a lot of time in dark corridors... no wonder you keep bloody falling into trouble..."

Two figures formed, clad in neat, Slytherin robes. Mora, not the young, horrified child of the last memory, but a teenager, on the arm of Tom. Sirius suppressed a grumble.

"Tom...You would tell me, right? If something was…wrong. If there was something I could do to help, you would tell me."

"Hey," Tom cooed, cupping Mora's face in his hands. "Nothing's wrong. Especially not with you. I'm sorry that I've worried you. I just, it's just…" He paused. "Everything has just been to…. perfect. No one has bothered us in months now, Ra. Not Eric, not anymore memories, no abrupt trips to the hospital wing. I'm just afraid it's only a matter of time before something…. comes between us again."

"Tom, no matter what happens...No matter who or what tries to tear us apart, I won't let it. You won't let it."

"We won't let it," Tom said softly. "I love you, Mora Cartea."

Sirius' stomach knotted. Those words sounded like bricks when they fell from another's mouth.

"What, no rude nicknames?" Mora joked, "And I was started to get used to it to."

"Oh all right fine, I love you, Ra Ra," Tom laughed, kissing Mora lightly on her neck.

"For the love of Merlin, STOP SNOGGING!" Sirius moaned at the couple, to no avail. Much to Sirius' relief, the corridor dissolved, melting away to reveal the outside of Hogwarts. The dark sky churned with tumultuous rain clouds, drenching the grounds. No one dared to challenge the weather, except for two, pained teenagers. Muddied, soaking wet, and visibly upset, Mora stepped backwards.

"I've been nothing but honest with you this whole time!" Tom shouted.

"You want honest?" Mora fumed. She held her hand mid air, the promise ring glistening through the few blotches of mud staining its surface. "I'll give you honest."

She wretched the ring off her finger. "Here you go, Tom. Your freedom!" Rearing her entire body with the motion of her arm, Mora threw the ring harshly away, the silver surface being submerged into another drench of mud. "There," she strained, "At least you heard a bit of honesty tonight."

"Mora stop!" Tom grabbed hold of Mora's shoulders, pulling her closer. "I don't want freedom, I want you, I love you!"

She looked over his shoulder, into the slurred rain beyond him. "No you don't, you're just pretending."

"I was never pretending," he soothed.

"NO I WAS NEVER PRETENDING!" Mora boomed, breaking away from him, and then running past him, back towards the castle, and out of sight. The vision faded with her.

_Looks like they're actually won't be anymore snogging..._ The scene shifted, into a sunny, brighter day. The tiles of the lavatory shone with a mid-afternoon glow, their cheery haze ignored by vision's focus.

_Mora and Tom, reunited,_ Sirius assumed. _Bloody brilliant..._

Yet as the memory became sharper, more focused, Sirius could see this meeting was anything but a happy couple's reunion.

zszszszszszszszszss

With heavy steps and dried tears Mora made her way up the stairs. Her hands wrung together, and her nails dug into her palms. She knew this would be the last time she would walk these halls, touch the banister, feel the early summer breeze through the windows, smell that strange musty carpet scent. This was their house. The only place besides Hogwarts Mora remembered living. And even though Mora loved Hogwarts, with every bit of her being, it didn't compare with having a house to call her own.

She still remembered the day Sirius invited them to move in, then the first time she, Reamus, Emmeline, and Sirius walked through the front door. All the big events stirred in her memory; Christmas dinner, Emmy's bon-voyage, their first full Order meeting, Reamus' birthday, Lily's baby shower. Then all the little moments sifted between those events; nights by the fire, sweeping the porch the muggle way before giving up and resorting to magic, tea in the middle of the night in their kitchen.

Those moments fell away with each step.

_I chose this_, Mora's thoughts rummaged. _I am choosing to leave this. What am I doing?_

zszszszszszzszszszs

"What was that thing? Where did it go!" the memory-Mora cried.

"Mora, please, try to calm down," Tom said without a trace of emotion.

"Clam down? CALM DOWN! I don't think you understand how easily that thing could have killed us! Or do you not think giant snake posses some kind of a threat, even to you?"

_Snake? Giant snake?_ Alright, Sirius knew a lot of bizarre things happened in Hogwarts (many of which little, kind-spirited pranks he and his Marauders had a hand in) but a giant, murderous snake?

"I know it would not hurt us!" he shouted back defensively.

"HOW TOM? HOW!"

"BECAUSE IT ONLY FOLLOWS MY COMMAND!"

There was silence. Sirius drew closer. He could see that Mora had been crying, her hazel eyes lined with red and pink blotches, her lips trembling.

"Oh my God…"

"Mora, please, give me a chance to explain," Tom started quickly, holding onto to each of Mora's forearms.

"Let go of me!"

"Mora, please, JUST STOP FOR A SECOND!"

Mora stopped squirming, much to Sirius' dismay. He would have much rather seen her punch the little bugger, right in the nose... "You can….talk to it?"

"Mora, just stop for a minute…."

"NO!" she screamed into his face, causing him to jeer back a bit, releasing her.

_There we go, kick his arse, luv!_

"I want the truth, Tom," she said, lowering her voice. "And I want it now. What is that thing, Tom?"

"It's a…. a basilisk."

Sirius froze. He had heard that before. Somewhere, from his family, some sort of story traded amongst the pure-blooded hob-nobbers. A myth, something about the champion of the race, using a great beast to destroy muggle borns...

"And this, this basilisk, you can, talk to it?" she asked softly, her cool and calm façade starting to crumble away.

"Yes."

Sirius ripped his shock away. Just like that, he put the pieces together. "Get out of there, Mora!" Sirius shouted.

"So...I think I'm going to go now." With this, she turned to leave.

"Yes! GO!" Sirius cheered

"Wait!" Like a claw, Tom's hand clamped down on Mora's arm. "Just let me try to explain this to you, help you understand," He pulled Mora further away from the door.

"What is there to explain? You run around with a giant, probably man eating snake! No big deal."

"No, will you just stop for a minute?"

"Again with calming down! Bloody hell, Tom, I've been shutting up and calming down this entire year, it's time that I do speak up, for something at least!" Mora screamed back. "Merlin. I can't even believe we're doing this. It's been two days since Myrtle's murder, her blood isn't even dry yet! And here we are, bickering over a…"

Stopping dead, Mora began to look widely around the bathroom. "Oh my God," she whispered, her eyes wet. "Oh my God...It was you, wasn't it?"

"Mora, just stop for a second," Tom started, "You don't understand…you don't know what you're talking about…"

"GET OUT OF THERE!" Sirius screamed, rushing to Mora's side. "Do it now! RUN!"

"I think I know very well what I'm talking about," Mora spat. "This is where you've been running off to all year Tom, isn't it? This is what you've been doing, you've been…. killing people?"

"No, Mora, give me a chance to…"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Mora cried, even though she couldn't shake off the grip he had reclaimed on her shoulders. "Why Tom? "WHY?"

"I DID IT FOR _YOU_! FOR US!" Tom bellowed. "For all of us."

"What?"

"Mora, I did it for us, to save us." he repeated slowly, his tone softer, almost gentle.

"Does that even make sense?"

"You don't know, you don't understand."

"Then help me understand," Mora shouted back sarcastically. "How in hell's name is killing innocent people saving _us_?"

"THEY'RE NOT INNOCENT PEOPLE!" he roared. "THEY'RE MUDBLOODS!"

Sirius nearly went numb. Tom spoke, explaining his twisted ideology, but Sirius could not hear. This filth, this vile, pure-blooded bigoted boy, this murderer, with Mora.

"So that's your grand solution?" he heard Mora say, when his mind clicked back into the present. "Killing them, to kill each one until there's none left?"

"Freeing our world from their scum. To free us all."

"Is that what you think you are? A liberator?" Mora spoke softly, her voice cringing with each word. "Do you honestly think you're a hero from all of this? That you can walk away with no blood on your hands? No remorse?"

"I don't weep for the dead."

"Well neither do I," Mora snapped back. "Including you. You're dead to me Tom."

"You don't mean that."

"I do Tom," Mora seethed. "Since the day you decided to unleash that monster, to hurt those people. You're no better than that man who killed my father, my family."

"You don't mean that, Mora." Tom spat. It's not the same as…."

"No Tom, it's exactly the same. You were planning to kill off every last muggle born, just as he had every member of my family murdered. Well, guess what Tom, I'm next. I'm the next to die. And right now, I just don't give a damn. You've lied to me Tom, from the day I met you, you lied."

"Only until I could tell you, I never intended on keeping it a secret from you," Tom said, gentle again.

They went on, heated, terrified, but Sirius would not listen. He couldn't watch this, he couldn't wait for this Tom to hurt Mora, _his_ Mora! Blonde, Slytherin, whatever, she could be a bloody hippogriff in these visions for all Sirius cared. She was Mora. And in this lavatory, she was in deep, deep trouble. And Sirius was rendered completely useless. All he could too was watch, and wait for something terrible to happen.

"A mistake?" Tom's word's reach Sirius' ears. Sirius' eyes refocused, to find that Tom had backed Mora up against the far wall.

"Bloody hell..." Sirius mumbled.

"Was this a mistake?" Before Tom gave Mora any chance to react, pressed his hand on the wall mere centimeters above Mora's right shoulder, and kissed her hard on the mouth.

Harshly, she shoved Tom away, leaving him looking both heartbroken and angry. "Do you think you can just do _that_ whenever you bloody feel like it?"

They argued, they yelled, they were producing a lot of noise for a lonely, girls' lavatory. How the bloody hell was no one hearing this? What, no one had thought to come and investigate? It was the middle of the bloody day, Sirius didn't see how students or professor or whoever could walk by and not be alarmed? And what, did no one have to even use the lavatory? Were their bladders on strike or something? Where was everybody? Someone, anyone to get this kid away Mora!

"And if that isn't enough for you," Mora seethed, bringing Sirius' brain back into their conversation once more. "How about the fact that you're nothing more than a cold blooded killer?"

"It had to be done. One day, you will understand."

"The one thing I understand is that it's over, Tom. All of it. The lying, the sneaking off, the killing. And if you can't see what you've done wrong, it looks like I'll have to help you."

"You're not…. you wouldn't…. you can't…"

_But she would._

"No Tom, I can," she said calmly. "And I will. Right now."

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," Tom pulled his wand out. "Expelliarmus!" The spell hit dead on, and she was defenseless.

"I swear," Mora started nervously, her voice wavering with every syllable. "If you come a step closer, I'll scream. I swear it."

"You wouldn't," Tom said, his wand dropping down to his side. "You wouldn't."

"STOP!" Mora said. He still came closer. True to her word, Mora let out a blood-curtailing scream. Tom lunged at the girl, his hand wrenching over her mouth.

The door rocketed open.

"What the bloody hell took so long! Thank -" But Sirius' relief vanished when he saw the student stepping into the lavatory, wand drawn.

"Get the hell off her. Now." The Colton look-alike, the Bayard ordered.

"This doesn't concern you, Bayard," Tom spat.

"Oh, I think it does. Now, do I need to tell you again, get the bloody hell away from her."

"Get out of here, Eric, before your get in too much trouble and dear old dad can't get you out."

"That's funny coming from someone who's never even had a father," he mocked. Throwing Mora against the wall, Tom attacked the Bayard.

Sirius rushed to Mora's side. "Mora!" he called, but of course, she couldn't hear him. "Mora!"

"Guys, STOP IT!" Mora screamed, still crouching on the ground. "This doesn't prove anything, anything at all!"

The fight fueled on, until Bayard was flat on his back, and Tom emerged victorious, on his feet with a wand. Sirius didn't know if this was the favorable outcome. Probably not...

"Show me you're not the spineless little orphan I've known for the past six years. C'mon Tom."

"Funny, it sounds like you really _want_ to die."

"Well, there's no use in stalling this anymore, I'm starting to get a tad bored," Tom smirked, balancing his wand between his fingers. "Goodbye Eric, and I can tell you right now, you will not be missed. AVADA KEDAVERA!"

Yet as the spell erupted into the room, Mora lunged at Tom, knocking him off his feet. The curse spiraled into the air.

And the room went black.

"What happened?" Sirius shouted in the darkness. "WHAT HAPPENED? MORA?"

As the question echoed into the abyss, the shadows fell, and the hospital wing appeared. Empty except for one bed. Nuzzled within the linens, a battered blonde, and at her bedside, the headmaster.

"There is much I must tell you, Mora," Dumbledore said softly. "This will not be easy, for either of us," he whispered.

"Professor…" Mora choked. She was weak. Whatever happened in that bathroom, whatever that git did to her, she was okay. She was alive. But was drained. Not in the way that people are after losing sleep, or a Quidditch game, or cramming for an exam. Drained, like life had been sucked from her.

"How long have I been sleeping?"

"At least seven hours, however I feel it was longer."

"How much longer?"

"Thirty three years."

"Wha….what?" Mora stuttered. "Oh, no, no, that's impossible -"

"In a way, it is, for the truth of the matter is, you really have only been sleeping, here in the hospital wing that is, for seven hours. Seven hours ago, you were in the year nineteen forty-five. And in the blink of an eye, here you are, nineteen seventy-eight, being found hours ago in the Gryffindor common room. About thirty three years after anyone has seen you."

zszszszszszszzszszszs

Her head was spinning. Mora thought if she just were to lie down for a few minutes, to rest her head, she would be fine. She would be able to pull herself together. Once she was composed, she would be able to do this. She knew she had to. Yet with each step up the master staircase, Mora's certainty wavered. What if she couldn't go through with it? What if she couldn't force herself to leave? What if she couldn't keep herself from Sirius?

As she reached the top landing, fear gripped Mora, filtering the uncertainty with terror. What was going to happen when she told him? She had never really thought this through. She assumed she could just tell him and leave - she had put no thought into his reaction. What would be say to her? Would he believe her? Would he think it was just some grand, elaborate story, cooked up to distract him while she ran? Would he think she was mental?

And worse, what if he believed her?

zszszszszszszszszzs

He now stood beneath the Whomping Willow, the tree Sirius knew had the full capability to beat him right into the mulch. But the violent thrashing of the branches had ceased. Instead, they hovered in the air. Sirius heard a shaky sigh.

He spun around, only to spot a quivering figure on the ground. Her arms, which had been covering her head, bracing for the impact, lowered slowly to reveal her face. Mats of brown curls fell out of her face as she shifted her position, and her blue eyes, still wide with fear, surveyed her situation cautiously. Sirius' heart lurched. Mora. _His_ Mora. Brunette, Gryffindor-robed, pain-in-the-arse Mora.

She crawled across the ground, eager for safety, but found herself at the foot of some big rock. Just as she did, Sirius took a closer look. It was a moderate sized stone plaque, at the very base of the tree. It had become overcome by dirt and stray vines, and Sirius had to squint to decipher the message

_**In loving memory of Mora Cartea**_

_**A friend to all**_

_**1928 - 1945**_

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Something was off. Mora couldn't necessarily put her finger on it, but she knew something in her bedroom was off. Something had been disturbed. Plucking off her cloak, Mora surveyed the room. Nothing obvious was wrong; no broken window, scorched walls, nothing that screamed dark magic. Nothing that even screamed dust bunnies. Then what the bloody hell about the room was driving Mora so crazy?

As her eyes loomed to her desk, she felt a flitter in her stomach. Yes, there was something, very small, very ordinary, that was different. The small, basin she kept tucked away on her desk had been moved. Not even moved, it was just a few centimeters to the left. The layers of dust that usually coated the basin had sprayed in different directions, and the liquid within shimmered with a new life.


	67. Run, Hide, Watch

67. Run, Hide, Watch

Something was off. Mora couldn't necessarily put her finger on it, but she knew something in her bedroom was off. Something had been disturbed. Plucking off her cloak, Mora surveyed the room. Nothing obvious was wrong; no broken window, scorched walls, nothing that screamed dark magic. Nothing that even screamed dust bunnies. Then what the bloody hell about the room was driving Mora so crazy?

As her eyes loomed to her desk, she felt a flutter in her stomach. Yes, there was something, very small, very ordinary, that was different. The small, basin she kept tucked away on her desk had been moved. Not even moved really, it was just a few centimeters to the left. The layers of dust that usually coated the basin had sprayed in different directions, and the liquid within shimmered with a new life.

zszszszszszszszzs

The woods were ablaze. Green flames tore through the small clearing, fueled by the wands of none other than the Death Eaters. Their enchanted inferno trapped a small, rag-tag group. The blondes of all ages, from a grown man to teenagers to small children, escaped a cabin that charred to nothing behind them, only to be affronted by the dark sorcerers.

Sirius raced through the scene, passing through the Death Eaters and flames as a spirit, untouched and unharmed. He reached the group of victims, searching for Mora. The man, and another, a teenage boy, deflected curses as three other children hid behind them. In the center of the group, a quivering blonde stood, clutching the hand of a little girl. Her hazel eyes glittered with fear against the emerald inferno.

"Mora...?" Sirius asked. Of course, the girl did not hear him.

"No matter what happens," The blonde said to the little girl, "When we get out there, run as fast as you can and don't look back. I will follow you."

The little girl nodded. The older girl pointed to the woods beyond them. "Go there as soon as I fall, see?"

"Fall? Why fall?" the little yelped.

"Do it, Mora!" The older girl ordered.

_Wait, she's not Mora?_ Sirius' eyes turned to the little girl. _THAT'S Mora?_

She couldn't be more than five. This tiny, terrified child; his Mora. Surrounded by her family, for what Sirius feared to be the last time. His heart twisted in his chest. "Mora..."

"There she is!" a Death Eater growled. Sirius turned, to see the wizard aiming his wand directly at the older sister.

_He must have made the same mistake I did..._

Turning hastily, the older girl watched in horror as a green flash of light soared towards her, slamming right into her chest. She fell to the ground.

"CLARA!" the teenage boy screamed.

_Clara..._ Sirius' mind raced. _Mora has an older sister...Clara..._

"YOU BASTARD! I SWEAR, I'll KILL YOU!" the teenage boy shouted, running head on into the mist of the wizards.

"Josh, NO, STOP IT'S A -"

The boy, assaulted with killing curses, clamored to the forest floor. As the wizards charged, the little girl, Mora, darted into the trees. And the memory vanished.

zszszszzszszszszzsz

_The pensieve... the pensieve... _

Her heart pounded.

_The pensieve..._

Her head raked with unimaginable pain.

_My pensieve..._

And at the same time, she was numb.

_Someone is in my pensieve..._

Everything was stored in that little, compact dish. A different world, a past, a nightmare - all whisked away in that little piece of porcelain.

_Someone is somewhere in my past..._

The lies. The secrets. Every single fabrication falling apart at the seams, all because of what was in the pensieve - and _who_ was in that pensieve.

_Someone is somewhere in my past, watching..._

The transfiguration classroom, usually the place of Sirius' dreariest memories, hummed with a new tension. He stood at the back of the classroom as McGonagall gave some assorted lecture on the necessity of registering animgai. Sirius tried to chuckled a bit, yet after the last memory he visited, he could not muster the false enthusiasm.

Shoveling his hands in his pockets, Sirius ambled up the aisle of the classroom, reaching the desks. In the very back room, he spotted a familiar face. Sirius' stomach churned. Brown haired, blue eyed - his much more familiar, Gryffindor robed Mora. Her lips mashed together, her eyes forced away from her desk mate, she silently fumed. Sirius drew nearer, and soon realized what Mora's preoccupation was about.

_Bayard..._

"I'm Bayard," Colton said. Mora looked back to him, sending flames of rage through Sirius. "Colton Bayard."

"Mora Ashford…." she mumbled quickly.

_Ashford, _Sirius mused. It was strange, almost foreign, after hearing so many different people call her _Cartea._

"You may know my father...You know, he's very high in the ministry…."

"I can't say that I do..."

"You can't be serious," he snipped arrogantly. "You've never heard of Eric Bayard?"

Sirius' blood rose to a boil. _Eric Bayard._ As vile as his slime of a son. Loathsome to the core for what he did to Mora...Sirius stopped himself

"Recall it vaguely."

"Oh, I see…." Colton said as his nose shriveled up as he turned his eyes away. "Hard to believe they let _another_ piece of mudblood filth into this school…..course with Dumbledore running it into the dirt it can be expected….."

Mora snatched up her wand, raising it up to Colton's neck. Fire flared inside her eyes. "Who are you calling mudblood? How dare you! Just because I'm not falling at your prissy little feet does not mean I'm one of _those_."

Sirius froze. "Mora...?"

_What the bloody hell...?_ That was not his Mora. That was not anyone's Mora. That just _was not_ Mora. She wasn't some bigoted, pure-blooded elitist. But, her eyes, her voice, it was all so...Black family tree-esque. Pure blood court worthy. It was terrifying.

Colton eyed her peculiarly for a moment, before a smirk came across his face. "Well, well well," he said, pleased with himself. "I've seemed to have stricken a nerve. Perhaps you would be happier in Slytherin, Miss Ashford."

Mora dropped her arm away quickly, her wand hitting the desk with a soft thud. "I shouldn't have said that," she whispered to herself.

_And back to her senses..._ Sirius breathed a short sigh of relief.

"Now, there's nothing wrong with defending yourself," Colton drawled. "I'm sure if someone had insulted myself in such a way I would have reacted much worse... My apologies again," he added smugly. "I have a feeling we're going to get along famously," Colton snickered.

Mora looked back to him, her eyes burning into his own. "I don't think so."

"There we go!" Sirius cheered softly.

zszszszszszszsz

Mora gripped the edge of the desk. She braced herself tightly, fighting for breath.

_Just pull it together, Mora,_ she commanded herself. _You need to pull it together..._

Her heart raced faster. She raised a hand to her chest, somehow trying to force her heart to take a break. She needed air, she needed a break, she needed a dark hole somewhere that should could crawl into and die in -

_PULL IT TOGETHER!_

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The Hogwart's Trophy room appeared around him. Sirius had been there a couple of times, detentions that forced him to scrub the place top to bottom, hiding from Filtch, random odds and ends that brought the Marauders to that wing of the castle. It was no place all too memorable... Until that night.

The night that changed everything. The one night Sirius wished more than anything he could change. The one he knew he could have prevented.

And as Colton Bayard materialized in the vision, Sirius knew it was the night he was about to relive. "No..."

Mora appeared across the aisle of trophies, wandless and defiant.

"_Mora, NO!_"

Colton snickered. "Who said anything about talking?"

zszszszszszszsz

Her knees buckled. She clamored to the carpet, as if in slow motion, watching the world around her fade as she did. Her eyesight blurred, her pulse raged faster than a speeding curse.

_No, no, no..._

"Not now, please Merlin no..." Mora gasped, though the air in her lungs grew thicker, coarser, before it drained away all together. "No, no, no, _please not now!_"

As she fell forward, face-down to the floor, Mora's world went black, and she was sucked away into her own, hidden memories.

zszszszzszszszszsz

"MORA RUN!" Sirius shouted.

But before she could make an escape, Colton lunged forward and grabbed hold of her shoulders. Pulling her into him, Colton claimed Mora's lips in a frightening, forceful kiss. Mora pushed him away instantly. Colton stumbled backwards, regaining his balance only to see Mora had disappeared.

Mora dodged into another aisle, running towards the door; yet the only exit slammed shut just as she were to reach it.

"Leaving so soon?" Colton sniggered.

She pulled at the door knob, unaware as Colton came up behind her. He flipped her to face him, her back pinned up against the door. "Colton! STOP!"

"GET OFF HER!" Sirius shouted, knowing her could not touch them. He could not intervene. And as he shouted, in vain he knew they could not hear.

_Useless again..._

"GET OFF!" Mora punched Colton in the jaw. He moaned, reaching for his face in agony. She knocked Colton down to the ground, forcing herself away from the door. She ran back into the body of the Trophy Room. Yet as she ran, Colton rose to his feet, drawing out his wand.

Colton rose his wand, a smile flickering across his face.

"MORA, LOOK OUT!"

"_Imperio._"

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The classroom was nearly silent; all that could be heard was the scratching of quills across the pristine parchment. The uniformed girls attentively copied the incantations on the board as their professor paced the front of the class, her iron-gray hair pulled back into a taut bun.

"Mallory? Malloy!"

The girl's head snapped up, her black hair spraying across her tired face. "Huh?"

"Huh?" The professor drew closer. "_Huh?_ Has our academy deteriorated to the point where we address our instructors in such slang as _huh?_"

The girl dropped her eyes to the desk. "I'm sorry, Madame Du Lann..." she droned in a monotone, forced apology.

The professor, nose-in the air, about-faced. As she paced to the front of the room, she drawled, "Now, Mallory, would you care to recite the counter-curse to a sticking charm?"

The girl hesitated. "Well...um..."

"Ah, now we have resorted to not only _huhs_, but to such slanders as _ums._ Very well, Mallory, it is bad enough you cannot stay awake in class, let alone complete the bare-minimum of reading. Since you are unable to produce an answer -"

"But there is no counter-curse, Madame."

Du Lann paused. "What do you say?"

"The sticking charm has no counter-curse, Madame Du Lann. One can only administer a loosening charm or wait for the offensive curse to dissipate."

The taut line of the professor's lips wavered, creasing into the hint of a smile. "Well, Mallory, it appears you have completed your reading quite effectively."

"Yes, Madame," the girl answered. "The counter-sticking was part of the last set of footnotes."

The professor nodded. "Nicely done...Now," Madame Du Lann returned to the front of the room, "Can anyone elaborate on the origins of the sticking charm? What about you, Lucille?"

Mallory shrunk back into her seat. The girl in the next desk leaned over to her. "Nice save," the girl congratulated. "I could have sworn the old bat had you in for sure."

"The old bat is a bit more attentive than you give her credit for, Loraine."

Mallory's and Loraine's heads snapped back to the front. Madame Du Lann, her back turned to her pupils, wrote notes with her wand in the air, however the girls could feel their mentor's eyes burning through the back of her skull, straight to them.

"Five-thousand words, ladies, on the importance of discretion in such brazen affairs, due next class."

The classroom groaned.

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"You can fight this, Mora," Sirius urged, at her side. "Mora, don't let him do this to you!" He shouted. "FIGHT BACK!"

And she did.

Planting her hands onto his shoulders, Mora knocked Colton to the ground. As she turned to leave, Colton grabbed a hold of her ankle. She crashed to the ground, landing on her left leg.

"GET OFF HER!" Sirius demanded.

"Strong little bugger, aren't you, luv? How the _hell _were you able to shake off an Imperius?" He dragged her towards him. She fought, hard, until Colton got to his feet and grabbed a fistful of her hair.

"NO!" Sirius roared.

She tried to scream, but he clenched her mouth shut. He flung Mora to the ground, and she landed face-front on the floor.

"Get up, Mora!" Sirius urged. "Get up!" But she did not move. "You have to fight! FIGHT!"

He flipped her onto her back and crouched over her. He ripped the buttons off her blouse.

"FIGHT MORA! FIGHT!"

"STOP!" Mora scratched Colton across the face, drawing blood.

"YES, MORA! FIGHT!"

Colton felt the blood, and a new, calm rage washed over him. "I'll teach you how to treat me."

"NO!"

"C'mon Mora. I bet I could show you a better time than Black ever could."

zszszszszszzszsz

"That was brutal," Mallory grumbled as the girls tread down the hall, their blue uniform skirts rippling in the cold draft.

"Well, if it wasn't from your lack of sneakiness, we wouldn't have an extra assignment on us," Loraine commented coolly.

Mallory sighed. "It's only five-hundred words. That's one page, tops."

"Well, well, well, looks like our little teacher's pet has spoken once more..."

"I am not a teacher's pet!"

"Mal, she called you out in front of the whole class, and you still stick up for her." Loraine rolled her eyes. "Teacher's pet does not begin to describe it..."

"Okay, that was a bad," Mallory admitted, "But you know as well as I do that Madame Du Lann knows her stuff."

Loraine coughed, managed to mumble out _teacher's pet_ under her breath.

"What was that, Mademoiselle Loraine?

"Oh, nothing, nothing..." Loraine snickered.

Mallory's smile grew venomous. "Oh, you're asking for it..."

"Ohhhh..." Meg whined. "Don't start you guys, we're gonna get caught."

"Fear the wrath of Mallory!"

"We'll see about that!"

The girl raced down the hall, laughed, wands outstretched. "Prepare to be vanquished!"

"_MADEMOISLLES!"_

The girls halted, a fuming professor storming from her classroom. "This is an academy, not some free-for-all!"

The girls muttered quick apologies, before hurrying down the hall, caught up in giggles.

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Mora screamed, pounding her fists against Colton's chest as he opened the button on his trousers. "STOP!" she shouted.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!"

Colton grabbed her left wrist, pinning it on the ground beside her head. Using his only free hand Colton wrapped his fingers around Mora's throat. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!"

The door to the Trophy Room blasted open. Two Gryffindors raced in through the clearing smoke, wands outstretched.

"It's me... Thank Merlin, it's me..." Sirius breathed. _Bloody about time already!_

And the Trophy Room disappeared. In its place, a Hogwarts corridor and two Slytherins materialized.

"You can run off to your little Slytherin gooneys and brag about how you'll all one day kill of every muggle born that lives, and you'll all have you're fun," Mora, blonde Mora, sneered into Tom's face.

_Clearly this is post-break up, pre lavatory death match_ Sirius noted.

"But in the end, you'll amount to absolutely nothing. When you live no one will love you, when you die no one will mourn you. No one will remember you, but maybe if you're that lucky, just as that annoying what's-his-name from school all those ages before."

Rearing his hand back, Tom slammed his fist into her face, the sound of the blow echoing darkly throughout the corridor.

"YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Sirius roared at Tom.

As his hand ripped across her cheek, Mora tumbled backwards, her body harshly colliding with the wall. She clamored to the ground as her legs crashed painfully beneath her, and then she disappeared.

A new vision formed. There was a dark, dreary room, lined with flimsy wooden walls and floors. Two small, blonde children were surrounded by hooded adversaries, grossly outnumbered.

"Death Eaters," Sirius growled.

"Very well," one Death Eater, a woman, hissed. "Just tell us, where is she?"

"Who?" the boy asked. His eyes darted to the girl, whose arm was being twisted behind her back. Her captor, a Death Eater, appeared mammoth beside her. Sirius' eyes locked with the little girl's, and even though he knew she could not really see him, he felt the connection. He felt the bond in her frightened, hazel eyes.

"Mora...?" he whispered.

"I think you very well know who young man," the female Death Eater went on. "The one who marked your bloodline for execution boy."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the boy said

"Wrong answer," the Death Eater sighed. "Crucio!"

The boy trashed back and forth in pain as the torture spell flooded him. "STOP!"

"This is your last chance, Cartea...WHERE IS SHE?"

"I don't know, and if I did, I'd never tell you!"

"Then you are of no use to us. _Avada Kedavra_!"

The green killing curse was the last aspect of the scene to fade into nothingness…

"Why couldn't you give up on me, Sirius?"

"Oh no..." Sirius muttered as a hospital room took shape around him. One bed, one patient, and one visitor. The brown-haired healer, tired, worn-down, crying at the bedside of another.

With the deepest, darkest visions of Mora's past, there was Sirius. Barely breathing, an inch from death. He never realized how bad it had been. He remembered the pain - Merlin, he remembered the pain. He always wondered why no one dared to let him get near a mirror until he was released. But one look at the man in the bed was reason enough for him. This was not Sirius - this was some beaten, bloodied, shell of what was.

"I ignored you, I pushed you away...I tried forget it all, pretend we were just friends, just roommates. But you never believed me, not for one second...You knew all along." Mora dropped Sirius' hand as she bound up from her seat.

"I did it to protect you!" she shouted. "I did it to keep you safe! To keep you _alive!_ I pushed you away for months and months to make sure you would never end up like this. I lied to everyone time and time again, until I started believing it myself. And what do you do? You nearly get yourself killed. _What the bloody hell is wrong with you?_"

Sirius came forward, standing at the opposite side of the bed than the healer. "I'm sorry, Mora... I never meant for this to happen"

"Who am I kidding? We both know_ I'm_ the idiot here."

"Well, a little bit," he chuckled. "But you're the idiot I can't live without."

"All this time...I thought if you weren't with me, you'd be safe. I thought they'd have no reason to go after you if we weren't together. I just wanted you to be safe."

"I never understood why..." Sirius went on. He knew this was just a vision, that Sirius really wasn't there, that Mora couldn't hear him, and that this wasn't an actual conversation. But none of that registered with Sirius at the moment. "I never knew how much danger you were in. Everything that's happened to you. I mean, you told me about your family...their murders...but there's so much more."

Of course, Mora did not hear Sirius. She took a small step towards the bed. "How bloody stupid was that? What made me think you'd be any safer? We're all in the Order, for Merlin's sake. Every day we stick our necks fighting. There's always hoards of Death Eaters lining up to murder us. We've all got targets on our backs."

"Not quite like yours though, right?" Sirius paused. "Why are you in so much trouble?"

She sat back at his bedside. "We've always been in this much danger, haven't we? It was always just a matter of time until one of us..."

"But you thought it was going to be you..." Sirius froze. "You were convinced you were going to die, long before the rest of us. I just don't understand why...Well, I guess there's a lot of things I don't understand, like the parallel-universe blonde-Slytherin Mora...what's happened to you?"

Mora grabbed coma-Sirius' hand. "You listen to me, Sirius Black. That's not gonna be you, okay? You're not the first of us to fall. You're not going anywhere. You're going to wake up, you hear me? You're going to wake up and everything is going to be okay."

"How...?"

"There's too much you still have to do here. Lily's having the baby in two months, Sirius. You have to help James be a father, you know he's gonna be a mess. You have to be cool Uncle Sirius - you know, teach the baby how to ride a broom, all those things Lily won't let him do. You have to go back to the ministry, show Moody you aren't some scared little newbie. You have to be Head Auror by the time you're thirty, like you said you would. You have to teach Peter how to dance - now _that's_ going to be a project. You have to come with us to visit Emmy in the fall. You have to come invade the States with us - Black takes over New York, remember?"

"Sounds so simple like that," Sirius said. "All those things we wanted to do, our little family."

"You have to wake up and tell me how stupid I am," Mora's voice cracked. "You have to tell me _I told you so. _You have to make me pay for all I've put you through. You can hear me, Sirius, I know you can. You have no excuse for lying in this bed a second longer."

Sirius stumbled back. "I can't watch this, I can't watch you cry over me." He rushed towards the door. Yet as he tried to pull the knob, his hand fazed straight through it. "HEY!" he shouted. "LET ME OUT OF HERE!" Sirius looked up; somewhere above him, out of these visions, this pensieve, was a way back to his world. "LET ME OUT!"

And just like that, he disappeared.

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With a crash, Sirius soared out of the pensieve. He landed on the carpeted floor with a moan. "Merlin dammit!" he sputtered, fighting for air. He wavered onto his knees, not ready to stand. "That...was...rough..." he wheezed.

From the corner of his eyes, Sirius saw something pale. Turning his head, he gasped. Mora, the real, non-vision, in-the-flesh Mora. Sprawled across the ground, still as death.

"Mora...MORA!" Sirius clamored to her side, quick to check for a pulse. A slight pang in her wrist brought him a small relief, but whatever had happened, Mora certainly wasn't in the clear. Sirius cradled Mora in his arms. "Mora, Mora, you have to wake up! Luv, _wake up!_"

Her eyes snapped open, revealing her wide, terrified blue eyes. "S-Sirius?"

"Mora!" He gripped her tightly, trapping her in an embrace. "Bloody hell, don't do that to me!"

"What...what happened?" She asked, pulling away gently. She scanned her surroundings - she was in her bedroom, on the floor, in her boyfriend's arms. What happened?

_A memory._

She had a memory. Of that girl. What was her name...?

_Mallory._

But why? Who was this random French girl? What made Mora remember her, as if Mora herself was Malloy? Mora hadn't seen a vision like that since Sirius was in the hospital -

Mora's heart dropped. Sirius. Here.

She was leaving him. She was leaving, she came back to wait for him, and she saw the pensieve...

"The pensieve..."

"Yeah, about that..." Sirius said. "Mind telling me when you were a blonde?"

She fainted.


	68. Out

68. Out

The photograph was worn, the once crisp texture turned smooth, dangerously light. The many different fold marks creased over the photo like throbbing veins. Despite the photo's used-and-abused appearance, the girl handled it with the greatest care and piety. Delicately, she traced her finger over the surface, following the photo's enchanted occupant: a woman, not older than twenty-five, running across a beach, a kite in hand. She laughed, her blonde hair whirling behind her, as she maneuvered her kite through the cloudless sky.

"I miss her too, princesse," Darryl Cartea sighed, sitting beside his daughter on her bed.

"I just wish I could remember her," Mora said, "You know, by myself. Without the help of..." She gestured to the photo.

"You were very young, princesse." He stroked her hair gingerly. "I know it isn't fair..."

"It really isn't..." She folded the photograph in half, and then in half again. She stored it under her pillow, as she always did, for safe-keeping. "Isn't it enough that they took mum? What else could they want from us? They've taken everything."

Darryl took his daughter's chin in his hand very gently. His eyes welled with a sadness Mora did not understand. "No, Mora," he said. "They haven't."

"Mom..." she whispered.

"I think she's coming to," a voice called.

"Wha...?"

"Mora, sweetheart, it's alright," the soothing voice of Lily Potter cooed. "Wake up, dear."

Groaning, Mora opened her eyes. She was tucked in her bed, in her pajamas and all, as if she had awaking from just another night's rest. Yet the wave of nausea that affronted her as she tried to sit up proved otherwise. "Uhhhh, bullocks," she moaned.

"How are you feeling?" Lily asked. The redhead sat at the edge of Mora's bed, her bulging stomach the only thing separating the two former Gryffindors. The mother-to-be wore her trademark worrisome expression.

"Like I fell off a broom, did a few somersaults in the air, and then some..." Gingerly, Mora sat up against the barricade of pillows behind her. She looked back to her concerned colleague. "Lily, I promise, I'm okay. Just a little queasy. It'll pass...It always does..."

"Do you need anything?"

The brunette attempted to crack a smile. "This really isn't a soup kind of thing. I'm not sick. I'm just...a little...it'll pass in another minute or so."

"You had a memory?"

Mora nodded. "Not a long one, though. Just me and my dad..." She paused. Her friends had put her in bed. That seemed off. "Lily, how long was I out?"

Lily looked away. "A few minutes..."

"Really?"

"Mmm-hmm..."

"I was out just a few minutes, and you felt the need to wrangle me into bed, pajamas and all?"

"Maybe it was a tad longer than a couple minutes ..."

"How much longer?"

"This really isn't the time, you should rest -"

"Lily Evans-Potter," Mora growled, as fiercely as she could manage while her stomach still felt like such a mess. "_How. Long._"

Lily winced. "A little more than a day."

Mora's eyebrows knitted together. "A day? That makes no sense, it was a three, four minute memory, tops. Nothing gruesome, that makes no sense at all..."

"Well," the redhead nudged softly, "If you consider the circumstances under which your memory was triggered, it is plausible that it took quite a lot out of you."

"Circumstances?" Mora echoed.

"It's natural for you to need time to -"

"What circumstances?"

But Mora didn't need an answer. Just as Lily opened her mouth to respond, the bedroom door creaked open, revealing a certain tired, shaggy-haired roommate. His stormy grey eyes, undoubtedly troubled, locked upon Mora without a moment's hesitation.

Lily rose. "Sirius, this really isn't the time -"

"Lil, it's alright," Mora interceded.

The redhead's eyes focused back to her bedridden friend. "You need to rest, you can talk about...you can talk when you're more up for it."

"I'm up for it."

"Mora, don't you think you're -"

"She wants you to get out, Lily," Sirius snapped. "That means go."

Lily marched straight up to him, defiant and annoyed. "You have no right to do this to her when she's this weak..."

"I'm not weak!"

Lily's head snapped back to Mora.

"You need to go, Lily," Mora said slowly, deliberately.

"You're making a big mistake," Lily asserted. "But it's yours to make." With this, Lily left, closing the door behind her.

Mora's eyes turned back to Sirius. It was impossible to read him. He was tired, for sure. Overwhelmed, definitely. But beyond that, Mora could not tell what he was thinking.

"What did you see?"

Mora blinked. "Sorry?"

"James and Lily told me when you pass out like that, you have a memory, something from when you were a kid. What did you see?"

Mora's heart dropped. Pulling it back up into her chest, she determined to give him a straight answer. "My dad. We were talking, about my mom. I wasn't more than eleven or twelve."

Sirius nodded shortly.

Mora gulped. _Here we go..._ "How much did James and Lily tell you?"

Sirius chuckled shortly, unexpectedly. "Definitely not enough."

"I expect you need me to fill in the blanks for you..."

He chuckled again. "You make it sound like I want to learn the rules of chess for Merlin's sake..."

Mora dropped her head. Yes, she deserved that. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Where do you think?"

She shivered. "You want to know who I really am, what I really am. If I'm a mutant, or some kind of freak? Is that it, Sirius?"

"No," he responded flatly. "I want to know why one of the guys from the Leaky Cauldron came by to ask why you hadn't checked in. I want to know why half your stuff is gone. I want to know why you were leaving me. And I want to know why you couldn't suck it up and just tell me you wanted out."

_Wait...huh?_

Mora's mouth popped open. Quickly she clamped it shut, trying to control her surprise and extreme confusion. "...Huh?"

Sirius bound forward. "You heard me, Mora. I want to know why you walked out on me."

"I wasn't walking out."

"Oh really?" he scoffed. "You were running away from this, from _us_, without giving me the slightest warning, and that in your twisted little head of yours doesn't count as walking out? Really, Mora?"

_Just stay calm, Mora. Getting emotional right now is not going to help him understand..._ "I understand that you're upset..."

"Upset? _UPSET?_"

"I know I've hurt you, so much..."

"No, Mora, you've never hurt me, _that's the problem!_"

"You...want me to hurt you...?"

Sirius laughed. "No, no, but it would make more bloody sense than you just picking up and abandoning ship."

"I wasn't abandoning -"

"_YOU BLOODY HELL ARE!_"

Mora bit her lip. She had seen Sirius angry - hell, she had been the cause of it plenty of times in school, but she couldn't remember the last time she saw him in such a state.

"You are taking everything we have, what we fought so hard for, and what? You're dumping it on the bloody side of the road?"

"That's not true -"

"BULLOCKS!"

"If you would stop bloody screaming for a minute, you big arse, and let me explain -"

"Explain what? How this suddenly wasn't working for you? How I'm not making you happy anymore?"

"That's not true!"

"Then why would you leave, huh? Why would you throw us away, Mora?"

"Because_ I'M PROTECTING YOU, YOU IDIOT!_"

Sirius stood silently for a few moments. "Protecting me from what? From you?"

She inhaled shakily. "From the danger that surrounds me."

"I can work with danger," he persisted, coming closer. He sat on her bedside without the least bit of apprehension, his anger rippling down to only frustration. "I live danger, I'm an auror for Merlin's sake."

Mora shook her head. "You don't know what you're talking about, Sirius...you don't want to throw your entire life away because of this..."

"The only one trying to throw something away is you," he said coolly, evenly. "And I'm not going to let you do that."

"If I stay, you'll die."

"What makes you think that?" he snapped. "Why now? Why all of a sudden are you such a magnet for impending doom? Eh?"

Mora bit her lip. "I've always been, I was just too...too bloody stupid to remember. I'm too in love with you - yes you, you big moron, I'm still and will forever be in love with you, so you can quit this wronged-man act. I'm far too in love with you to keep a clear head."

"Wait a second...you want to run away, because you need _clarity?_ That's completely daft, even for you."

Mora groaned. "You're not getting it, Sirius!"

"Then _explain it to me!_"

"I'm bloody well trying," she growled.

"Try harder."

Taking a moment, Mora exhaled sharply, air hissing through her nose angrily. "Bottom line then; I was leaving. I was going to sit you down when you got home from work, tell you why I needed to go, and then walk out. There, you happy?"

He ignored her smug cruelty. "And why do you think you need to run?"

"Because all I will bring you is suffering. You will die because of me, if I stay. Everyone around me will die."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because it's already started." Her blue eyes cut straight through the man she loved - she was ready to be as honest as she had ever been. "My mother, my father, Clara, Ardien, Joshua - they all died because the Death Eaters were hunting _me_."

"Why? Why did the Death Eaters want you when you were just a kid?"

Mora closed her eyes. "The past...My past."

"Before your parents were killed."

"Before they were even born, Sirius."

"Are you about to tell me your a hundred-something years old?"

Mora snorted. "I think you already know the answer to that is no, you twit." She looked away. "You know, you've already seen everything, right? You jumped head first into my pensieve - you got a little private tour of my deepest, darkest secrets. This entire conversation is just a technicality, isn't it?"

"Your secrets..." Sirius stood. He stepped towards the window, his back to Mora. "Your secrets, which you never trusted me with."

"It was a mistake -"

He spun around, his eyes ablaze. "_LIKE HELL IT WAS!_"

"I -"

"I shared EVERYTHING about myself, and you lied to me! YOU _LIED TO ME!_"

"I HAD TO!"

"That's bullocks, Mora, and you know it!" he accused. "You could have told me, you could have _chosen_ to _trust _me. But instead..." He looked away. "I don't even know who you really are..."

"Then it's time you met me." She sat up cautiously. "My real name is Mora Abigail Cartea. I was born sometime after the nineteen seventies, and supposedly died in nineteen forty-five."

Sirius was absolutely still, his eyes fixed upon the healer. "How?"

"I'm a Temparious. It's a disorder, some sort of genetic mutation - I involuntarily time travel."

He grasped the bridge of his nose between two fingers, centering himself. He dropped his hand to his side, Mora awaiting his reaction. "A time traveler...And I assume this is why the Death Eaters want you so bad? They want to use you, some sort of ally or weapon or something..."

Mora scoffed, much to Sirius' dismay. "Some weapon I'd be...I can't control it, Sirius. It just happens. It's only happened twice, and both times it nearly killed me. Not to mention it wiped out all of my memories from before I was sixteen."

"That much James and Lily filled me in on," Sirius reported. Slowly, carefully, he sat back on the edge of the bed, this time allowing more distance between himself and Mora. "They got here when I found you. Apparently they were going to try to prevent you from doing, whatever it is you were planning to do - leaving. And they both knew what was happening to you. The most I got them to tell me was that when you get really stressed, you pass out, and you get memories. Because you have...none."

"Yeah, that's true." Mora fixed her gaze more strongly. _Truth is a little hard to swallow, isn't it?_

"So, to summarize - you are an orphaned victimized time traveler, hunted by the Death Eaters, now living in hiding."

"That does sum it up quite nicely."

_Except for some blaring holes in the form of a certain future- Dark Lord..._

"So, your first..."

"Tempari," Mora supplied.

"You went to the past."

"Mid nineteen forties, in Hogwarts."

"And you wound up a Slytherin, how...?"

"I was placed, not sorted."

"And you were...blonde..."

"That would be the natural hair color."

"And your eyes -"

"Hazel."

Sirius sighed sharply. "The most basic physical features, Mora. The things I see when I wake up in the morning and when I sleep at night - wrong. A lie."

"I know."

"Then, you, you traveled, to us?"

"Gryffindor common room, beginning of your seventh year."

They sat silently, Sirius digesting and Mora waiting. Waiting in terror, in anticipation, in grief - just waiting. The ball was in Sirius' court.

"You're in hiding."

"Yes," she said, meeker than she had anticipated.

"But James and Lily know."

"James was recruited to protect me, by Dumbledore."

"Anyone else know?"

"Rubeus Hagrid."

Sirius blinked. "Hagrid?"

"He was in my year, when I was in Slytherin. He was a Gryffindor...he was my best mate."

"Okay..." Sirius choked out. "Anyone else?"

Mora paused.

Sirius' head snapped up to her. "Who?"

"Remus."

Sirius leapt to his feet. "_Moony?_"

"It was the morning after I saw him as a werewolf! It was...I can't explain it, it just felt right to tell him -"

"And you never, not _once_, felt that way with me?" He boomed. "You never thought I should know? That I would understand? That I would still accept you?"

"Well clearly I was right there, wasn't I?" She shouted back. "Look at you! Yesterday you were madly in love with me, and today you can't even look at me like a person because of what I am!"

"I don't give a bloody damn that you're a tempi-ar-ious!" Even through his stutter of the name, his voice was vicious. "It's that fact that you lied! For over a year, you lied!"

Tears stung the back of her eyes. "You think it's that black and white? You think I didn't tell you because I thought I'm some kind of freak that the bad guys want to use, eh?"

"Isn't that what you just told me?" he snapped.

"I would have shouted that from the bloody rooftops! _Look at me, I'm Mora, the amazing time-traveling girl! _You think I really give a rat's arse? It sucks, it tore my life up, but c'mon now, compared to what I'm hiding from, it's nothing but the icing on a very, very bad cake."

"If you're hiding from Death Eaters, why are you sticking your neck out everyday bloody fighting them out in the open? _Are you mental?_"

"That's rich, Sirius -"

"Disguise or no disguise, if you're that afraid of what they'll do to you, to _us,_ why would you be out there?"

"Do you not believe me, Sirius?"

"I believe there's something you're still not telling me, and I want to bloody know _now!_"

"FINE!" Mora bound out of bed, raging towards him. Tears streaked down her face. "I'm not hiding from Death Eaters, you idoit. _I'M HIDING FROM VOLEDMORT!_"


	69. Deal With It

69. Deal With It

Sirius stepped back a pace. His shouts of rage disappeared. "What...what did you just say?"

Refusing to back down, Mora stepped defiantly closer and as Sirius retreated. "You heard me. Voldemort will kill me. He will kill everyone close to me if he ever finds out who I really am. And he will destroy you piece by piece if I don't get out of town."

He stood mute. He had no idea what to say, where to start, how to even process what she was declaring...

"That's your truth, Sirius. And you know why Voldemort would kill me? Because I'm a monster. Because I did the one thing no good person, no Gryffindor, no _human_ would ever dream of doing."

"And what's that?" Finding his voice once more, Sirius took a slow step to Mora. "What makes you think you're not even human, Mora."

"Do you remember what you saw in my pensieve, Sirius?"

"You. Couple of different hair-dos, polar opposite Hogwarts houses, but otherwise, just you."

"Think to the blonde days. Anything stick out about those visions in particular?"

"Actually, yeah. A rather stupid bloke." Sirius snorted. "You need to just take a breath here -"

"What about that bloke, Sirius," she interjected fiercely. "What do you remember about him."

"Honestly?" He flashed a smirk. "I think he's a little bitch."

"Do you remember his name?"

"Mora, this is stupid -"

"DO YOU REMEMBER HIS NAME?"

"_TOM!"_ Sirius shouted back. "Tom, Tom, TOMMIE TOM TOM! I REMEMBER!" He drew closer. "Because every time in that ruddy little dish you told him how much you loved him, I wanted to bloody vomit."

"Do you remember what he did, Sirius?"

Sirius paused. "He hurt you," he growled.

"Yeah, well, I got out alive, unlike the muggle-borns he tried to kill that term."

Sirius balked, but soon, he remembered. The lavatory, the giant snake thing. Yes, Sirius recalled the vision. "He could have killed you, Mora..."

"And if he ever finds me, he'll kill us all."

Sirius blinked. "What, is he Voldie's right hand man? The number two of Voldemort's evil minions?"

Mora sat at the edge of the bed, Sirius still standing before her. Her heart beat deafly in her chest. Was it even beating at this point? She could feel nothing, she could see nothing but Sirius' eyes, his betrayed, suffering eyes - and she knew she was about to rip them, and the rest of him, apart, by what she had to say.

But she had to.

"No, Sirius. He is him."

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The Potters sat perched at the top of the master staircase, catching the bursts of shouts from the closed bedroom. Lily grasped her tummy apprehensively, while James slung an arm around her shoulders.

"This is the worst idea in the history of wizard-kind..." she fumed quietly.

"I agree, luv, but there's nothing we can do."

"We bloody well can," she argued. "We can go in there and drag him out."

"They need to do this, Lily. It's been way overdue."

Her emerald eyes snapped to him. "A bit biased, are we?"

James blinked. "Sorry, what now?"

"Of course you'd come down on Sirius' side."

"I'm not on anyone's side -"

"You bloody Marauders. All you care about is -"

"Earth to Missus Potter!" He shook her shoulder slightly. "Potters do not pick sides. Well, besides in the ultimate war against good and evil. Then we're side-pickers all the way...But in this, both of my best-mates are in there, and they're hurting, and they've been hurt, and they need the truth."

"More like Sirius needs the truth so he can walk out on her, right? That's all you're thinking..."

"I don't want to see anyone walk out on anyone. Remember, that's why we came over here in the first place."

"Yes, well, that was to keep Mora from flying off the handle. Not sit back and watch Mora's biggest secret explode all over her relationship with Sirius."

James dropped his voice. "Luv, he needs to know. They love each other, they can work it all."

"There's only one thing that can't be conquered by love, and that's what driving a spike in the heart of their relationship..."

"And what's that, dear?" James asked earnestly as Lily rest her head on her husband's shoulder.

Lily closed her eyes. "Voldemort."

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"He...is him," Sirius repeated.

Mora closed her eyes. "Yes, Sirius. He is him."

"He _is _him."

She gulped. "Yes."

"He is..._him?_"

Her eyes snapped open. "For Merlin's sake, yes, yes YES! He's him! Tom is him!"

"Tom is..." Then, it clicked.

Mora knew the instant he understood. It changed his entire demeanor. His back grew rigid, his limbs frozen, his eyes stone-cold.

This was it. The moment that lived only in Mora's nightmares. When her entire life crashed around her. When everything she ever wanted, ever dreamed of, was ripped apart at the lies that held it all together. The grand reveal that would change their lives in the worst way.

But at that moment, Sirius laughed.

Tears flying down her face, her heart raging a mile a minute, and here was Sirius..._laughing_? "What are you doing?"

"I'm, I'm sorry," he managed to choke out between fits of hysterics. "But for a second there, I thought...I th-thought you said your crazy school sweetheart from your time travel escapades was actually Lord Voledmort!"

"I did."

"Which is why it's-s s-so fu-funny..." He cackled. "Missus Voldie!"

Slowly, Mora rose. She took careful, small steps towards Sirius, who was hunching up and down from laughter. And with all the might she could muster, she smacked him clean across the face. The sound of the blow bounced through the entire manor.

At last, the laughter stopped. The shock was gone. The disbelief had been wrangled out. All that was left to steep, then, was the cold realization.

Mora had hoped it would steep. Instead, it hit Sirius like a ton of bricks. He exploded.

"WHAT DO YOU BLOODY MEAN THAT KID IS VOLDEMORT? YOU'RE TELING ME YOU WERE MADLY IN LOVE WITH THE LITTLE BASTARD THE GREW UP TO RIP EVRYONE'S LIVES APART?"

Mora retreated a step. Very calmly, with as much dignity as she thought she could manage, she simply said "Yes."

"HE GAVE YOU A BLOODY PROMISE RING!"

She gulped, and a fresh batch of tears wreaked their vengeance.

"YOU TOLD HIM YOU WOULD LOVE HIM FOREVER!"

Her composure began to waver.

"AND HE WAS BLOODY KILLING, EVEN BACK THEN!"

"I didn't know -"

"You knew he was pure-blood elitist filth, but you still fell for him! YOU KNEW!"

"No -"

"And you never told me. You never were going to tell me, were you? YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO TELL ME!"

"I was going to tell you tonight, before I left."

"THAT'S A BIT LATE, ISN'T IT?"

"I..." She couldn't breathe. Searching for air, she still managed to wheeze. "I know you're upset -"

"_Upset? _UPSET_!"_

"I can't change the past, Sirius..." She sobbed, reaching out to him. "But I can only tell you that, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

Sirius recoiled from her touch. "I can't do this. I can't do this." He went to the door.

"Sirius, Sirius please!"

In an instant he was gone, slamming the door behind him.

"_SIRIUS!_"

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Lily closed the bedroom door softly behind, emerging into the hall's dim light, which etched a very anxious face.

"Is she...?" Remus began.

"She's sleeping, finally," Lily reported. "Any news on Sirius?"

He shook his head. "We've checked everywhere we could think of. The office, Diagon Alley, all the local pubs - not a trace of him. James is still out there looking."

Remus braced himself against the corridor wall. "I could bloody kill him..."

"He certainly has made a mess of things," Lily conceded, "But I suppose we have to remember this isn't entirely his fault."

"Yes, well, I'll be the first to agree that this conversation was a bit overdue. But to bloody work her up like that and then walk out on her? Doesn't he realize he could make her tempari from upsetting her like that?"

"No, Remus, he doesn't!" she reminded. "He has no idea what he's dealing with. Yesterday Mora was just his girlfriend, Healer Ashford, a Gryffindor graduate, today -"

"She is still all those things," Remus argued. "She's still Mora."

The redhead sighed. "Yes, well, it's going to take Sirius to remember that. As well as the digest the ... the rest."

Remus slunk against the wall, down to the floor, in his exhaustion. "It's just so ... bizarre. When we found out, you, James and I, I know we needed some time, but we all accepted her, right off the bat. It's just so unexpected for Sirius to react like this."

"You're forgetting though..." Lily waddled to the ground carefully. "None of us were ever in a romantic relationship with her."

Remus conceded. "Yes, I do see where that would complicate his reaction..."

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The see-saw creaked in the breeze, pushing each side up and down slowly, eerily. The empty swings glided back and forth, and specs of dust blew through the mild wind, decorating the empty playground in a musty seclusion. Sirius slumped down onto a swing. He gripped the side chains with all the energy he possessed, and he breathed. It had been the first time he tried since he ran out of the house, down the road, out of the village, and into the next one over. It was hard; his lungs did not want to cooperate. The air was stifled, forced. It brought Sirius no comfort, no relief. In his attempt to slow himself down, he felt only more flustered. Instead of clarity, his head was dirty. Dirty, muddled, and buzzing with a high-pitched noise. Like a siren, blaring through his mind with no sign of stopping. The noise, and the images, the visions, Mora's memories, bombarded Sirius without mercy.

"_I love you, and if you were to be taken away from me, I would have no reason at all to even live anymore." _

_Tom approached Mora slowly, taking her head into the palm of his hand. "Mora, please, I hate to see you cry."_

"_I love you Mora, I have all this time, and I always will." Their lips collided into a long, passionate kiss. _

"_Promise me you will always love me," he whispered. _

"_I promise," Mora smiled, pulling Tom back into the kiss. ..._

"Stop..." Sirius commanded his thoughts. He clenched his eyes shut.

"_You can run off to your little Syltherin gooneys and brag about how you'll all one day kill of every muggle born that lives, and you'll all have you're fun. But in the end, you'll amount to absolutely nothing. When you live no one will love you, when you die no one will mourn you. No one will remember you, but maybe if you're that lucky, just as that annoying what's-his-name from school all those ages before." _

_Rearing his hand back, Tom slammed his fist into her face, the sound of the blow echoing darkly throughout the corridor..._

"Stop..."

_It was a moderate sized stone plaque, at the very base of the tree. It had become overcome by dirt and stray vines._

_**In loving memory of Mora Cartea**_

_**A friend to all**_

_**1928 - 1945**_

_A grave-stone..._

"JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!"

"I don't think it's going to be that simple, mate."

Sirius groaned. He did not need to open his eyes to know who now occupied the swing besides him.

"How did you find me?" Sirius asked.

"One of the copious plus sides of being an animagus," James bragged, "When you transform, as you know, tracking scents is rather easy."

Sirius opened his eyes grudgingly. "Well, you've smelled me out of hiding," he glumly reported. "What you intend to do now?"

James sighed, swaying back and forth on his swing. "I just want to talk, mate."

"Talk eh?" Sirius chortled. "Funny how everyone was all clammed up for so long, but _now_ you lot want to talk..."

"Is that really necessary?"

"Is _what_ necessary?"

"Your bullocks," James replied flatly.

"_My _bullocks?" Sirius suppressed a chuckle. "I think you need to take a look in the mirror."

"Sirius, that phrase doesn't even really apply to this," James pointed out.

"Alright, let me spell it out for you then," he snapped. "You're bloody hypocrites. The lot of you."

"You can be angry," James said. "That's your right. But you also have to -"

"I'm not in the order-taking mood, you know," he interjected sharply.

"Sirius, you need to deal with this."

Sirius blinked. "Deal with it?" His heard snapped in his friend's direction. "_Deal _with it?"

"Yeah," James replied simply. "Deal."

"Are you bloody out of your mind?"

"If anyone's going to claim temporary insanity, it really should be you, Padfoot."

"She lied," he growled. "She lied for more than a year. The most fundamental things about her, and she lied."

James leaned in. "She had too, Sirius."

"That's complete bullocks!" Sirius snapped. "Alright, when she first showed up in Gryffindor, and Dumbledore put her into hiding, yeah she had to lie. And maybe at first, when she didn't know anything about us, or had any reason to trust us, yeah, I get the lying. But when we opened up to her, when she became one of us, she joined our little bloody, messed up family, and she still lied... and not even to everyone. Half of you bloody knew!"

"Dumbledore told me, Sirius - I was recruited to protect her."

"Yeah, what the bloody hell is that about anyway?" Sirius questioned angrily. "I got that you were supposed to be her Gryffindor ambassador and what not, but what's with the bloody loyalty oath you had to her? What, were you her body guard or something?"

"No, Dumbledore just wanted me to...watch out for her. Help her keep the secret, look out for her, and just... be there for her, I guess."

"Be there," Sirius repeated.

"Yeah, be there," he retorted. "I think you saw in her pensieve everything's she's been through - all the ways people have ripped her life apart, and how they're still at it."

Sirius turned away. "And you told Moony? You, her grand protector, let her secret slip to your mate?"

James dropped his voice. "Moony's know since Hogwarts."

"_Hogwarts_?" Sirius sputtered. "Great, some bloody right secret then..."

"It was the morning after she saw us as animagi...since she found out that he's a ... that he has his _furry little problem_."

Yes, Sirius remembered. The first time he saw so much fear in her eyes -

_Stop_, he commanded himself once more.

"He shared the darkest corner of himself with her, she felt it was only fair that she do the same. And since she knew he carried something markedly as dangerous, she thought it was the right thing to do."

"Then what, you blokes ran off to tell the redhead?"

"No." James inhaled slowly. "Mora told Lily herself."

Sirius clenched his jaw. "Lemme guess, Lil's a werewolf too..."

"Will you stop being such a git, just for second?" James snapped.

"I'm sorry, let me be serious then," he bemoaned. "Did it just come out? A slumber party? Some really life-altering, girl-bonding, pillow-fight moment?"

"No, you idiot, she saw her attempted rapist from thirty years ago in the middle of Hogesmede."

The words slapped Sirius across the face. Next came the images.

_Colton Bayard's double. His exact replica, yet it was his predecessor. His father. Pinning Mora to the floor, crouching over her. as she thrashed beneath him, clawing in vain to free herself. "You know, Mora," he snickered, "This would have to be much worse if I didn't fancy you so much." _

"_Get off me, you pig!" _

"_Not a chance my dear." Eric's lips claimed Mora's in a rough, intense kiss. The second he pulled away, Eric began ripping away at Mora's dress. She screamed and screamed until he kissed her once again, muffling away her cries. _

"Bayard's father," Sirius murmured, his whisper as venomous as a scream.

"He didn't recognize Mora that day, thank Merlin," James went on, his anger at Sirius still coating his voice. "But I'm sure you can understand how it affected Mora. Lily was there for her, and Mora knew it was time to tell her everything."

Sirius did not reply. He needed to breathe. To push those images of Bayard - both Bayards - out of his head.

"Fine," Sirius finally conceded. "I understand why she told Lily...and Remus."

James sighed slightly. "Okay."

"But there's still..." he paused. "There's no excuse...no reason..."

"Why she didn't tell you?" James supplied, his former fury fallen away.

"She had a million opportunities. Everything about me, mate, she knows. Every embarrassing, shameful, dark corner of my life. And the darkest of hers, she kept hidden from me. She couldn't trust me. She didn't think I would understand."

"It's much, much more complicated than that, Sirius..."

"No, not really. She didn't tell me. The End."

"No, it's not the bloody end, Padfoot! You need to look at the big picture."

"I have the big picture!"

"No, what you have is some black and white explanation for a situation, a life, drenched in gray. Created in gray. Gray, gray, ruddy gray!"

"Fine, gray me up," Sirius moaned. "Try to tell me how this isn't just a giant lie that I had to find out on my own."

James breathed deeply. "You know I can't tell you everything. That's for you and Mora to hash out. But I will tell you as much as I feel right; enough to get out of this bloody park and back into your life, where you have to deal with this. Because you will deal with this - you'll process it all, and then you'll go back to that house and talk to your girlfriend about it. You owe her that. Alright?"

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Severus Snape kneeled, the throne before him cloaked in shadow. All he could see slicing through the darkness were the two, blood red eyes.

"Well, Severus," the man hissed. "What is this urgent news you bring me?"

"My Lord," Snape began, "There has been a prophecy."


	70. Peanuts and Hot Sauce

70. Peanuts and Hot Sauce

Mora scrubbed the kitchen floor, steady on her hands and knees. Lily wanted Mora to rest, to take some time to recuperate, to _process._ A lot had happened, Mora had two memories in less than an hour, she had been pretty much comatose for a day, and she had experienced the most miserable confrontation with Sirius of her life - clearly, to Lily, Mora needed to take some time off.

Which Mora found complete and utter bullocks.

She needed to move. To occupy herself. To stay out of that bedroom, that place that in the course of a day had turned into a warzone. To do something useful. To do something at all. Not to sit on her hands and wait. Not to seem like the helpless, sick kitten everyone was making her out to be. Not to just lay around and cry and wail so her friends could sit at her bedside, tutting "Poor baby." Not to sleep. Not to rest. Not to lay in her bed, a puddle of her own sadness, unable to escape into unconsciousness. Not hid. Not wait. Not think.

She kept busy. With a tub of bleach and an old washcloth, she attacked the kitchen floor. The muggle way, exactly what Mora wanted to being doing. Her limbs ached, her knees dug into the tile floor roughly, and her back twisted from her hunched position. None of it mattered. All that mattered was the floor.

They had been ignoring it. Dusting it up with magic here and there, a quick charm to take care of a spill or two, but they seriously neglected their old, tile kitchen floor. They trampled over it day in and day out, they spent so much time on it, but they never took a moment to really see it, to just _look _at it. With a quick glance, it was fine. Cream tiles with specs of gray in their fashioned rows, nothing all too observable. But by the time Mora really looked, she was horrified. Those weren't just the specs of gray embedded in the tile. There was dirt, lint, dust, every different kind of mess one could dread was on that floor. Once she saw it all, she couldn't look at the floor the same way again. All she saw was the mess, the filth. She had to clean it, now, even if it was too late. She had to salvage whatever corner of their kitchen floor she could. And she couldn't rely on magic to do it.

She had to do it. Clean it, scrub it, fix it before it was too late. Even if it was too late, Mora had to use every scrap of energy she could find to fix it anyway.

She had to do something...

"You know, they do have spells for that."

Mora froze. The voice wafted from the doorway behind her. She steadied herself, kneeling with her back to the door. "It needs a real cleaning. Not a charm."

"Why not? They've worked fine for the old place before."

"Fine isn't good enough." Drenching her cloth in the bleach, she continued. "Fine is a facade. The floor looked sparkly and nice from our perspective."

"But it wasn't...?"

"No." She scrubbed roughly. "No. It was filthy."

"I think we would have noticed if it had gotten that bad."

"It's the kind of fifth you can't notice." She doused the tiles in front of her with more bleach.

"I don't think I'm following you."

"The kind of dirt and muck that collects in the cracks, in the lining, in the tile itself. The kind that festers there will we go about our business." Her scrubbing picked up its tempo. "It's gotta go."

"Luv, there's no dirt." His voice, which had been aloft, was now concerned.

She scrubbed even harder.

"C'mon, you need to take a breather..." He drew closer.

"Can't stop, have to finish before it gets worse."

He stood directly behind her. As she scrubbed, she caught his reflection in the blaringly bright tile. His gray eyes, fixed on the back of her head, were wide. Whether that was from the bleach or worry, Mora did not know. Nor did she care. She had to finish the floor...

Slowly, she felt his fingers graze her right shoulder. "This isn't' good -"

"I NEED TO DO THIS!"

The feel of his touch disappeared. As the sound of her outburst echoed through the manor, she resumed her cleaning.

His hand, with confidence now, rested on her shoulder. "Mora..."

"It's got to be cleaned..." She shrugged away from him, scooting forward to reach a new set of tiles. "It's got to be perfect..."

"It is, luv, the floor's...beautiful..." He complimented awkwardly.

"NOT IT'S NOT!" She swung her arm to the side, knocking over the tub of bleach. It splattered across the kitchen.

"Mo-"

"I RUINED IT! I RUINED THE FLOOR!" She sobbed, crying in the pool of bleach that now collected where she sat. "I ignored it, I let everything gather up down there, all the dirt, and the lies...and I ruined it!"

"No, no Mora," he tried to soothe, kneeling beside. She turned away from him, clawing across the soapy, wet floor. Her eyes stung with tears and the stench of the chemicals. "Mora please!"

"I ruined everything!"

He pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her. "No, I ruined it! I ruined it!" She sobbed.

"Shhhh," he soothed. "We're gonna fix it, okay? You and me..."

She buried her face against his chest. They knelt on the bleach-soaked floor, in a tight embrace, with only the sounds of Sirius' comfort and Mora's cries to fill the manor.

zszszszszszszszszszsz

The manor's long, overly-ornate dining room table, while built to host up to a dozen guests, only sat two. They sat side by side; that way, Mora deduced, she wouldn't have to look into Sirius' heartbroken, betrayed eyes, or stare directly devastated face. A blanket was draped over her shoulders, which she hugged to her body desperately.

They had done it. They had the talk.

Certainly not what Mora had been planning on. She had somehow envisioned that she'd tell him, there would be tears, and then somehow she would gracefully make her exit, never to be heard from again. Her pensieve had complicated things, and essentially took an axe to that scenario.

Then, she though their confrontation in her room would be it. Confusion, sarcasm, screaming - the end.

But then, he came back. He calmed her down, sat her down, and they talked it out.

It had been rough, awkward at best, but they got through it. Somehow, they were both sitting at the table - no curses, no missing limbs, no swearing. Sirius would ask a question, Mora would explain, and then he would give a nod, or some indication that he had heard her. Then they would sit and wait for a few moments. Then there would be another question, and they would repeat the process. But now, the questions had stopped, and silence enveloped the pair.

"Buggar..." he muttered. He grappled with his glass of water, lifting it off the table with care. He took a long swig.

"Yeah..." she replied. "Buggar is right."

"I feel like we should be drinking something a little stronger than tap water..."

Mora snorted.

"Just kidding, luv."

She winced, looking to him cautiously. "Still calling me luv? After all that?"

He turned to her. "Well, I love you. Usually you call the woman you love _luv_. It's just one of those couplie things we do..."

She laid her hands on the table's surface, casting her eyes down to her battered palms. "After what I told you...you shouldn't say things like that..."

"Say that I love you?"

She glanced up at him shortly. "Yeah, that. That should have stopped a good hour ago."

"Mora..." He paused. Gently, he nudged his hand over her own, taking her limp fingers in his own. "I'm not saying I'm not mad. I'm not a raging lunatic at the moment, but I'm not gonna lie; you should've told me before."

Mora moved to pull her fingers away, but he gripped them tighter.

"That does not mean, for one second, that I have stopped loving you, or that I love you any less. If anything, I love you more."

"You shouldn't even be able to look at me, Sirius. Let alone say things like...like that."

"Why, Mora? Why isn't it okay?"

"Because of...you know. Not just the lies. But..." She trailed off. She closed her eyes, took a breath, neither of which helped her say it. "Tom."

"Yeah, that git..."

"Yeah, him. Voldemort."

"You don't need to -"

"No Sirius, I really need to keep saying it." She pulled her hand away. "Tom is Voldemort. Voldemort is Tom. They have always been the same person. Tom was Voldemort when I dated him. When I was _in love_ with him. I was _in love_ with the root of all evil."

Sirius exhaled.

"Are you telling me that doesn't bother you in the least?"

"Of course it bloody bothers me," he growled softly. "I hate it. I hate that you were with him. I hate that he put you in danger, that he tried to pull you into all of it. I hate that if you hadn't done that last tempari, you could be Missus Bloody Voldemort right now -" He stopped. "I'm sorry, that's was uncalled for."

"No it wasn't," she said evenly. "That's completely valid."

"Mora-"

"No, Sirius," she snapped. "I would have either been with him by force, by magic, whatever, or I'd be dead. That's the truth. I know we've talked about it, and you've heard me say it, but you really need to understand it. You said it yourself." She snorted sourly. "_Missus Voldemort_. As stupid as it sounds, that's pretty much it."

"He fooled you, Mora."

"He fooled _everyone_. But I was the closest to him, I should have seen what was coming, but I was too blind. Because I loved him. I've finally accepted that. I was in love with the most evil man on the planet. I've accepted that it happened, that it's real. You don't need that in your life."

Sirius blinked. "Are you daft?"

Mora looked him squarely in the eyes, severity coating her words. "He will kill us, Sirius. But he will destroy you."

zszszszszszszszszsz

"I think they're going to be okay..." James sighed as he and Lily sat on their sofa, trying their best to rest in each other's arms.

Well, Lily in James' arms. Lily was dealing with a massive pregnant belly that impeded two-way embraces. "You really think so?" she asked hopefully.

"I'm saying it'll be easy," he said. "But I think they're going to come through this on the other side. Together."

James inhaled slowly. His time in the park with Sirius had somehow set him back on the right track, back to the manor to talk to Mora. Talk, not accuse, not attack, just talk. And listen.

"_How am I supposed to do this, James?" Sirius had asked. _

"_You just go in there, you sit down, and you, well...talk. You let her talk, you ask questions, you listen. And that's it," James explained. "That's all you can really do."_

"_No, I got that part," Sirius remedied. "What I meant was, how...how do I..."_

"_Deal with the fact that her first love was..." James supplied._

"_Yeah, that...that."_

_James paused. _

"It's something to overcome, that's for sure," James said.

"That's if Sirius can accept it. That's if they stay together..."

"You make that sound as if it's even worse than them splitting."

"Oh no," she corrected fretfully, "No, no of course not. That's the last thing I want. It's just...the long haul of this thing. It's not like when she was dating Adam. It's not just her and some guy. It's her true love."

James raised an eyebrow. "I see where you're going with this, but don't you think that's a bit dramatic, dear?"

"I most certainly do not," Lily retorted. "They are true loves."

"Did we fall into a nineteenth century novel in the past thirty seconds...?"

"I'm serious, James!" she snipped. "What Sirius and Mora have...it's more than boyfriend-girlfriend, its more than love, it's like, its -"

James cut off his wife's declarations, pressing his lips against her own softly. "It's like that?"

"Mmmm." She smiled. "Just like that..."

Yet as they locked lips once more, Lily jerked away. "Ooooooooh..."

"What's wrong - Is something wrong with the baa..." But James never finished. Wetness pooled around the two on the sofa, staining the bottom of Lily's maternity dress.

"This can't be happening..."

"Just breathe, Lily," James tried to soothe, even though he was on his feet, fighting off a full-fledge panic.

"It's two months early, James! _Two months!_ This baby isn't due until August!" Tears streaked down her freckled face. "What's wrong?"

"We'll just get you to the hospital, it'll be fine..."

Lily nodded, letting James help her to her feet. "Really?"

"Of course, luv. You, me, and Harry. We're all going to be fine..."

zszszszszszszsz

The maternity ward of Saint Mungo's swarmed with life; all the spring and summer babies being born, their families waiting anxiously, blissfully in the corridors. But another family, or family of sorts, awaited outside one room without the least hint of joyful anticipation.

"The healers said everything was fine," Mora said slowly.

"Well, that's clearly a load of bullocks..." James grumbled, pacing up and down the hallway in a torrent.

"James, I wrangled up the best maternity healers on the staff for Lily, they all came to the same conclusion. She was going into premature labor, but we got her here in time to prevent it. She just needs to stay overnight for observation, but she's going to be fine-"

"I want a second opinion," the father-to-be ordered.

"Mate, that was our fifth second opinion," Sirius said as he came to his friend's side.

"We need another. We need to be sure -"

"They are sure, Prongs! Mora even examined Lil, and Mora's not even a maternity specialized healer. But she did it, for you, to make sure you were convinced Lily was going to be fine. And _Lily is going to be fine!_ Lily and itty-bitty Harry both, okay? We won't be see Harry until beginning as August, just like you two planned. Everything's fine. Now breathe."

James breathed - strained, forced, but he breathed.

"Good job," Sirius congratulated.

The door across the hall pushed open, and Lily's latest visitor closed it softly behind him. "James," Remus said, joining the three in the corridor. "She's asking for you."

"Is she okay?" he asked instantly.

"Yeah, she's perfect, James. Just tired," Remus reported. "And she requests that you stop sending in Healers and just go and sit with her."

"Yes, yes..." In a shot, James disappeared into the room. As he shut the door, the group outside could hear Lily bemoan _You big idiot, I'm fine, the baby is fine, we're all fine! Stop sending healers in to prod at me!_ They group smiled.

"Oh yeah, same old Lil," Sirius smirked.

"I'm gonna go down to the cafeteria," Remus said. "Lily mentioned something about peanuts and hot sauce, among other things..."

Mora's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Ugggh."

"I wouldn't argue with the pregnant lady's cravings," Sirius reasoned. "Go," he instructed. Remus bid his goodbye, and disappeared down the corridor, to the elevators, in search of the objects of Lily's latest cravings.

"Well," Mora lowered herself to the bench against the wall. "Crisis averted."

"I'll say." Sirius sat beside her. She felt awkward sitting so close to him. She knew it was wrong. She knew she shouldn't still be here, with Sirius. But now, she wasn't so sure she could leave. She couldn't really leave everything, everyone behind - she couldn't leave Sirius behind.

"Maybe we can actually have a boring summer, that'd sure be nice," Sirius smiled. "Just some lazy, sunny days before us, eh?"

But a strangled scream from Lily's hospital room proved otherwise.


	71. Safe and Sound

71. Safe and Sound

The screams grew louder, and then there was a clamoring - a struggle. The shouting of spells.

"LILY!" Sirius shouted as he and Mora charged into the hospital room. Yet by the time they got inside, all the found was James and Lily. The hospital room was torn apart - the bed overturned, the walls scorched with spells. James stood at the opposite wall, shielding his pregnant, unarmed wife behind him. Whoever had attacked them had gone as quickly as they came.

"What happened?" Mora demanded, her wand outstretched, fury coating her words.

"Death Eater..." James panted.

"How?" Sirius said. "How did they get in?"

"The anti-apperation charm over the hospital was temporarily disengaged."

The group turned to the door at the sound of a new visitor. Albus Dumbledore entered the room, closing the door gently behind him. "The Death Eater had precisely a one minute window of opportunity to apperate in, and then disapperate out."

"What was he doing here?" Lily asked, calm and even.

"He was trying to kill Lily?" Sirius asked. "A botched assassination attempt?"

Dumbledore stepped closer. "Yes, I am afraid so."

"Why?" James growled. His eyes burned, his muscles tensed, gripping Lily as closely to him as he could.

"I'm a new Order member and a Healer, I'm not exactly a high-profile player in this war," the redhead reasoned.

"A few days ago, I would have agreed with you. While you are an extreme asset to us, Lily, your courage, your intelligence, you certainly were not a priority target of the other side."

"What changed?" she asked.

Dumbledore paused, coming even closer. "They were not here to kill you, Lily, just because you are in the Order, or because of your muggle partentage. They are after something."

"What?" Mora cautiously asked from the side.

"Is it because of me?" James asked through clenched teeth.

"No."

"Albus -" Mora stepped forward, looking to the ground, before snapping her eyes to their former professor. "Do they know?"

"No, Mora. You are still hidden. Do not fret."

Mora exhaled. It wasn't her fault. Her friends were in danger, but it wasn't Mora's fault. She felt relief, although she knew that made her extremely selfish. She brushed off the temporary calm. Someone was still trying to kill Lily. Someone broke into the hospital's intricate security, and attacked her while she was unarmed. If James hadn't been at her bedside when the intruder apparated in...

"No, it's perhaps, even worse than that." Dumbledore revealed. "They are after Harry."

"Well...welcome home, Mister and Missus Potter," Sirius greeted, as cheerfully as he could as he opened the manor's front door.

James and Lily entered, James trying to be pleasant, but Lily having none of it. Remus and Mora awaited them in the hall - the welcoming committee. They had been preparing all morning - they cleaned the place, top to bottom, they filled every vase they could find with sunflowers, Lily's favorite, and they cleared out the guest room to make space for the Potters.

As the door closed behind them, Lily tried to force a smile. "It looks lovely," she complimented, but her sour disposition could not hidden.

"I know it's not our dream house anymore, sweetheart," James whispered in Lily's ear.

"No, we had to give that up," Lily snapped back at her husband before she could stop herself. "I'm sorry," she backtracked quickly, her eyes apologetic as she looked from Remus, to Mora, and lastly to Sirius. "I'm just still having a hard time...adjusting."

"Nah, don't worry about it, Lil," Sirius shrugged cheerfully.

"We were about to make breakfast." Remus ushered the Potters further into the house, with Sirius and Mora close behind. "If I recall for our Gryffindor days, someone is awfully fond of apple-cinnamon oatmeal..."

"That's very kind of you, Remus," Lily said, sitting at the table carefully, James beside her.

"I think a nice family breakfast is just what we all need," the redhead's husband added.

"Just like the old days," Sirius laughed, lounging in his seat besides the couple. "You doting over Lily, Remus playing Mum , Mora...Mora, what are you doing exactly?"

"I'm making...well, it was going to be toast." She set a plate of blackened, crisped bread upon the table. She took her place at the table in defeat.

"That's Mora, domestically challenged," he teased.

"And you, Sirius? How exactly are you contributing?"

"My wits, my charm, everything you lot are lacking," he laughed. "Well, 'cept for my girl," he added, taking up Mora's hand.

Over the past few days, their intimacy began to feel more natural, more acceptable to Mora. In the face of the crisis the group faced, Mora didn't have time to doubt what they had. She was starting to ease back into her relationship with Sirius, with him surprisingly being the one to comfort her, to ask her to forgive. That really wasn't something Mora had been expecting.

But, then again, neither was this.

The impromptu moving-in of the Potters was, for lack of a more appropriate phrase, an order. They were targeted, and they needed a safe place. That was Sirius' manor, loaded up with as many protective spells and cloaking curses as the Order of the Phoenix could provide. Lily demanded to know why they couldn't use those spells on her house, the house she had with James, the home they had built together for themselves and their baby. Dumbledore said he could not allow it. Even with all of the magic at their disposal, he reasoned, Merlin forbid there was some way for the Death Eaters to slip through the cracks, someone else needed to be there, to be able to protect them and fight with them. They couldn't live alone. And they couldn't live in a house the Death Eaters had plenty of time to curse and trap in their absence.

So, on demand of Dumbledore, the Potters moved in with Sirius, Remus, and Mora. The house was locked up tight with magic, and until Lily delivered, there the Potters would remain. They were too vulnerable while Lily was pregnant; she needed to be hidden, at least until she could duel with ease again. And, of course, she refused to let James go out and fight without her - as if he wanted to, after the news they received from Dumbledore. James refused to leave Lily's side. They were in this together - the three of them - and James wouldn't let anyone hurt his family. That simply wasn't going to happen.

"Here we are," Remus announced as he set a steaming bowl of Lily's favorite breakfast before her.

"Thank you, Remus, you didn't have to go through all this trouble just for us..."

"Nah, no trouble," Sirius started, unable to give Remus a chance to speak.

Remus rolled his eyes at his roommate, and then served the rest of the group before sitting down. "A nice, June morning," he mused to himself.

Mora ate in silence. Yes, from the outside this scene must look like just another nice, early Summer breakfast. Friends, family essentially, together; safe and sound, for the moment.

But they all knew that was not the case. They weren't some happy family. This wasn't some cheery meeting. It wasn't a pleasant, relaxing summer. It was war. It was pain, displacement, refuge. It was a temporary relief from the world raging outside.

It was a prophecy.

It was the turning point. Then thing to one of friends ever expected to happen to them. It was the shimmer of hope their world needed, but the burden they feared and long to give back. The burden that they would not bear, but the baby they were reading for.

It was Harry's burden. Harry's prophecy.

The prophecy Voldemort knew, feared; one which he would fight with every resource he possessed to stop. Which meant opening war on Harry before he was even born. Engineering an assassination attempt on a hospitalized mother-to-be, who would in a few months' time be strong enough to kick that Death Eater's sorry arse. But then, they thought of her as helpless, and they tried to take full advantage of that moment. The Marauders knew all too well that the failure would not be Voldemort's only attempt. He would keep coming, keep attacking, long after Harry was born. The most dangerous, evil man the world had ever faced, fighting a baby.

The most dangerous, evil man; afraid of a baby.

The prophecy - the one born with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord would be born...and soon.

Of course Colton Bayard knew. He had been trailing Snape ever since his former friend dismissed him of his charge. He followed Snape - who followed Dumbledore - in secret, to the pub, where he interviewed that blathering woman for the silly Divination position at Hogwarts. Where she went into some sort of shock, a trance, and made the prophecy.

Colton Bayard knew. Now what was he going to do about it?

The summer days passed by blearily; a haze of warm days and waiting. Mora, Sirius, and Remus would go to work, come home, run errands, but all the Potters could do was wait. Wait for Harry to be born. Wait for Dumbledore to give them to okay to move about in the open again. Wait for another attack. June faded into July, and the waiting continued.

"We're sitting ducks," Lily said as she store out of window one late July evening, watching the rain with a detached air. She sat upon the parlor window seat, staring out to the world she could not enter as Mora came to her side.

"You have to think positively," Mora said. "No matter how bad you may think things are."

"Bad?" Lily's emerald eyes lifted from the window. "Our life has been destroyed before we even got a chance to start."

"Nothing's destroyed," Mora assured instantly, "Just a little..."

"Complicated?" Lily supplied.

Mora sat beside Lily. The brunette sighed, replying "Complicated doesn't begin to describe it. But yeah, complicated."

She shook her head. "We didn't do anything to deserve this..." Lily said. Her hands soothed over her belly. "He didn't do anything to deserve this."

"Harry..." Mora began, unsure of where to go with this. "He's a strong baby. He's a Potter."

"Potter or not, he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he hasn't even been born...Merlin, he's never going to be a normal boy, is he? He's the defender of the world and all, the one choose to vanquish the Dark Lord. Everything's wrong..."

With words failing, Mora placed a hand on Lily's shoulder.

"And even..." Lily started, choking back a bit. "And even if Harry makes it, even if he gets through his childhood, he's going to face Voldemort. Neither may live while the other survives."

"That's not going to be Harry," Mora said strongly. "Harry's going to survive."

"He's got a fifty-fifty chance, at best...And going up against Voldemort, those odds are most certainly not in our favor..."

"It sounds finished when you say it like that, Lily..."

"My baby has a death sentence," she snapped, flinching away from the brunette's touch. "_A death sentence!_ _Kill or be killed!_"

"I know, Lily," Mora said quietly. "That's why you've got to believe he's going to live, okay? You need to believe it, so he will."

"I can't do this, I can't force my baby to bear this... I can't make him live in hiding his entire life..."

Mora winced. "It's...it's not that bad..."

The redhead turned back to her friend, horrified with herself. "Oh, no Mora I didn't mean - I shouldn't have said, oh please forgive me..."

"It's alright, Lil," Mora said. "Really, it's okay. I know more than anyone that this sort of life is not a picnic. Bloody hell, I can't tell you how many times I've wanted out...being so high on Voldemort's potential hit list is not what I'd call the good life..."

"How do you do it?"

The healer grabbed Lily's hand, squeezing. "I hope."

Lily sniffled as she tried to push back tears. "Thank you, Mora."

"Anytime," she smiled. Suddenly Lily's grip on Mora's fingers became iron-tight. "Ow, Lil, that's - OW!"

Mora looked to Lily, whose face was mingled with shock and pain.

"Oh Merlin..." Mora started, "Oh no...it's not...is it?"

Lily nodded widely. "It's time..."


	72. To Be Normal

72. To Be Normal

"Bloody hell...may I never give birth..." Mora groaned, slumped down in her chair of the hospital waiting room.

Sirius laughed, resuming his seat beside her. "C'mon, you don't want to see little Blacks running around the manor?"

"Umm..." Her heart raced. "I think something comes before that...Traditionally speaking, of course."

"Yes, I am aware," he smiled.

Mora balked, edging up in her rickety, hospital chair. "Are we seriously talking about...this stuff?"

"This stuff meaning marital bliss, babies, and what not - mmmm, yeah. Appears we are," he reported cheerfully.

Mora blinked. She opened her mouth, but closed it again, only to try speaking again with no luck.

"Breathing, luv. Air. Some say it's to die for."

"Ha-ha," she wheezed. "It's just...are we...isn't it a little...early?"

"Let me check," Sirius started, "Couple months, deeply in love, completely devoted to one another, living together...no, I think it's safe to say we have reached the place where we can talk about the future. Whether it includes hoards of screaming babies or not."

Mora felt her cheeks go red. "Sirius, you can't honestly think we can have kids."

"Why not?"

"It would be a bit," She lowered her voice, "Imprudent."

"Meaning the danger," he eluded. His cheeriness had fallen away.

"I just don't think it would be fair to bring a baby into that," Mora recovered, trying not to upset Sirius more. "At least, not now," she added.

Sirius perked up slightly. "You giving me some hope there, Healer Ashford?"

Mora smiled. "Better now?"

He exhaled shortly. "Eh...well, if we can't have the baby talk yet, we can at least talk about that step in-between..."

"The..." She gulped. "Step?"

Sirius nudged her with his shoulder. "Cold feet already? Luv, I haven't even proposed yet..."

Mora's head was spinning. What was once the familiar, washed-out scenery of the hospital were faded into a mess of blurs. Was he out of his bloody mind?! Talking about _the step?_ Joking around about proposing? To her? Sirius and Mora - Mister and Missus Black - married.

What was he thinking?!

No, of course they couldn't get married! It went against ever grain of Mora's common sense not to pick up and run last spring. She put Sirius in mortal peril ever day she was with him, had lunch with him, patted him on the back, told him that she loved him...

No, marriage was certainly off the table.

But for one, fleeting moment, she imagined it. She saw herself, the white dress, Sirius all dapper in his dress robes, the Marauders standing around them at the altar, the _I-do's_...

"Mora, Mora, you alright there?"

Pulling herself out of the daze, she looked back to Sirius. "I was just...taken off guard, is all..."

"Right...you know, I got the impression that you found the prospect of marriage bloody terrifying..."

"Well, _yeah_," she said. "Where have you been the past few weeks? Of course the idea of getting married is scary!"

Sirius' joking demeanor fell away, understanding the source of Mora's angst. "Oh..."

"Yeah, _oh._"

"Healer Ashford?"

Both Mora and Sirius stood as a tall, gangly woman - Healer Noldon, Lily's maternity healer - strode towards them. "How is she? How's the baby?"

"Why don't you ask her for yourself?" Noldon smiled. "They want to see you."

Without further prompting, Mora thanked the healer and headed straight to Lily's room. Of course, hospital security had been intensified significantly since Lily's last stay - it was Dumbledore's personal opinion that Lily, and everyone else, was perfectly safe within the walls of Saint Mungo's. That was enough to convince James and Lily.

As Sirius and Mora entered the hospital room, James rushed over to them, the exuberance on his face contagious. "He's perfect, Harry's perfect," James rambled. "My son...perfect."

So much fear, so much anticipation, anxiety, fear, sadness surrounding little Harry Potter in the past few weeks, but now as Mora drew upon Lily's bedside, all of it melted away. All that remained was Lily, absolutely glowing as she sat up in her hospital bed, and the bundle cradled carefully in her arms. It molded perfectly with her, like she had never been without it. Without him.

"Oh Lily, he's wonderful..."

The mother smiled. "Harry," she cooed to the bundle, "I want you to meet your Auntie Mora and Uncle Sirius..."

"Auntie? What am I, some fifty year old cat lady?" But Mora's protestation stopped the moment she set eyes on the baby. Harry - tiny, kind of squishy looking, as newborns often do - and absolutely perfect. He wriggled a bit in his mother's arms, opening his eyes up at Mora and Sirius. His bright, emerald eyes glittered through the hospital room. "Oh, Lily...your eyes..."

"Beautiful," Lily gushed.

"Yeah, well, everything else is definitely one hundred percent James," Sirius added. "Thatta' boy."

"You want to hold him?"

"I -" But before Mora could protest further, Lily had handed Harry over to James, who gently placed him in her arms. "Oh, careful," Mora advised, afraid she made shatter the tiny little creature in her grasp. Harry cooed more, looking up at the brunette in that wonder of infancy. "Oh..." She melted.

"Hey there, little guy," Sirius smiled, wrapping one arm around Mora, and placing his opposite hand on the baby's stomach. "You're gonna be a little ladies man, just like your dad, aren't you?"

James kissed Lily on the cheek. "So," he started. "We were discussing it, and we wanted to ask you -"

"We want you to be Harry's godparents!" Lily couldn't contain herself.

"Us?" Mora echoed.

"You guys, that's so..." Sirius began. "Us?"

"C'mon, you two'll be great!" James aided.

"Right, a fugitive and...a Sirius. Great picks to guide your child in the way of the Lord."

"Great picks indeed," James laughed. "Now will you just accept already?"

"Of course we do," Sirius said. "You guys are bloody family anyway, might as well make it official..."

"You hear that little guy?" Mora whispered to the baby, "I'm going to be your godmother..."

Mora could hardly believe how any of them ever got along without Harry. He was such an integral part of their lives - everything their little Marauder family did centered around him, how had life gone on before him? Dumbledore finally lifted the Potter's house arrest, thanks to other security measures he agreed to implement (agreed, with some influence from a very angry and a very scary Lily Potter), like protective charms and counter-measures to magic cast near or on any of the three Potters. Still, the Potters were to live in Sirius' house, and most importantly, Harry was never to be unattended.

Even with these extra securities, life for the Marauder family eased back into some normalcy. Work, errands, the Order, and now Harry. Finally, the family felt complete. Even Peter, who had been absent for so long, aiding his ailing mother, would have dinners with them some evenings. As summer ceased and autumn emerged, the little family was happy. Safe. And as normal as their dysfunctional unit would ever get. Lily even went back to the Order, part-time, although she elected not to go back to Saint Mungo's. She was content to be, in her own words, "Mother by day, vanquisher of evil by night."

They were different all right, but they were happy.

Little did they know, someone was out there, someone besides Voldemort, preparing to rip their family apart by the seams.

Colton Bayard knew about the prophecy. He knew, but he did not care. It truly was none of his concern. He didn't know who it applied to, who this possible foe to the Dark Lord could be, but he could honestly care less. Bayard had been kicked out. Abandoned. Discarded. He fed the Death Eaters everything he could discover, risked his life every day, and just like that, he was out. He lied, he cheated, he killed. But all because of the one he didn't kill, the one who survived, was Colton out.

Sirius Black. He had been nothing but a pain, a nuisance, while they were in school, but he proved to be much more destructive in adulthood. Colton's hybrid, his perfection, his weapon, his baby, which he had tested and perfected on other victims; made into sport by Sirius Black.

Well, not so much Black. More like the healer who saved his sorry, unworthy arse. But that was beside the point...

Black lived when he should have died. His survival made a mockery of Colton's sacrifices. His goal was destroyed forever. Once you're out, you're out. Colton would never again have a chance to join the Dark Lord's ranks, all because of Black.

And Sirius Black was going to pay.

He had planned it to perfection. Black would walk straight into his trap. And nobody, not even his precious Mora, would be able to save him. He wouldn't be able to con or charm his way out of this one. He would finally get what was coming to him. Black would finally die. Colton Bayard would have his revenge.

"This is such a dumb idea..." Mora moaned. "Honestly, we're in the middle of a war, and you want to have a date night?"

"Why, yes luv," Sirius said evenly. "It's all about keeping the romance alive."

"Which I'd say we've mastered," Mora wrapped her arms around Sirius' waist, kissing his shortly.

"Hmmmm," he smiled. "We are quite good at this part..." They kissed again, this time longer.

As their lips broke apart, Mora murmured. "See, we don't need some silly date night..."

"Oooooh, let's not jump to crazy conclusions." He plucked Mora's arms off of him. Summoning her jacket from the coatrack, it flew to his hand. He slipped it over his girlfriend's shoulders. "Honestly, I don't know why you're so bloody against this..."

"I just find it a little..."

"Imprudent?"

"Yes, Sirius." She shifted her weight uncomfortably as he opened the front door for them. "That's because it is."

"Honestly, it's to the point where I don't think you want to be seen in public with -" He paused. He stepped over the threshold to the porch. "Ahhh, you don't want to be seen in public with me..."

"No, it's not, it's not because..." Mora followed him onto the porch, shutting the door behind her. "It's just...if I'm ever, you know..." She dropped her voice. "If they ever find out, the less serious they think I am about you, the better."

Sirius sighed, taking Mora's hand into his own. "Can we just, for one, lovely September evening, forget all of this? Just for one night, you're just Mora, and I'm just Sirius, you're boyfriend. We're a normal people couple on a normal people date."

"Except for the being players in the fight against ultimate evil thing, right? And all the baggage that comes with that?"

"Yup," He grinned. "Look - poof! Gone until sun up!"

Mora rolled her eyes, letting Sirius guide her down the porch steps to their front path. "Alright, let's get this over with..."

"That's Mora the romantic I was looking for," he laughed.

"Guess it's for the best then, might as well get some use of this dress then..."

"You know you don't need some pretty dress and heels to impress me, Mora." He twiddled one of her curls in his hand. "All I need is you..." He kissed her lightly. "Ever."

The couple strolled down the boardwalk, abandoned but themselves and a few stragglers. "Honestly, I never imagine what these are like in the fall..."

"What, did you think they just up and disappeared in the off-season?" Sirius asked.

"Well, I don't give much thought to muggle tourism, so...maybe?"

Sirius chuckled. "Yeah, well, for a muggle restaurant, I've got to say that was pretty bloody good."

"I feel like I'm about to explode - honestly, did you have to force that chocolate soufflé on me?"

"A fat Mora is a happy Mora."

Mora smacked him in the shoulder. "Hey there! Watch yourself, Mister Black."

"You know I'm just teasing," he said.

"Yeah, well, you tease too much, maybe we won't be so cozy for the rest of this evening after all..." Mora mock-warned as she walked up the dock, leaving Sirius behind her.

"Oh wait now, never mind." He raced to meet her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. "Mora no fat. Mora skinny. Mora tiny."

"Mora not tiny," she ammended. "Mora doesn't want to be tiny. But thank you for not calling me fat."

"Now..."

"You want a reward for a compliment?"

"Well, no, maybe just for being helplessly in love with you..."

Mora smiled, turning to face him. "Well, I don't know..." They kissed. "How's that?"

Sirius cupped the brunette's face in his hand, while the other remained content at her waist. "Perfect."

"That's nice..."

Before either could react, the couple was ripped apart. Mora's head collided with the wooden walk.

"Mora!" Sirius cried, though she could not find the strength to rise to her feet. Even as her head flooded with pain, she opened her eyes.

"Sirius!" she shouted. "STOP! LEAVE HIM ALONE!" But even as she screamed, two cloaked men had taken Sirius by either arm.

With a wave of adrenaline, Mora jumped up, ready to charge the couple. She pulled out her wand. "That's my boyfriend, you bastards!"

"Mora, look out!

Before she could cast a single spell, a third man grabbed Mora from behind, pinning her arms behind her back. Her wand clamored to the ground. In another instant, the two men and Sirius apparated away.


	73. Three, Two, One

73. Three, Two, One

"MORA! MORA!"

But she was gone. The boardwalk, the ocean breeze, his Mora - all disappeared. With another pop, he was in an attic, by the looks of it. Roughly, his captors threw Sirius to the ground.

"Yes, that will be all," a familiar voice droned. "Thank you, gentlemen. You will receive your payment as we discussed. Good evening."

With that, the two men who had jumped Sirius disappeared. Sirius, though still disoriented and wobbly, tried to stand. Yet a curse sent him sprawling back to the ground. "No, please, don't do that..." the voice mocked.

The man stepped out from the attic's shadows. His robes, not as tidy as Sirius remembered. His face, as smug as ever. His stupid hair in its stupid little ginger ponytail. "You..."

Adam Prewet stepped into the dim light of the attic. "Miss me, Sirius?"

They were gone. They vanished with a pop, and they took Sirius with them.

Sirius was gone.

"NO!" Mora screamed, thrashing against her captor. He threw her to the boardwalk. Mora scuffled across the ground, reaching her wand and bounding up to her feet in less than a second. Yet as she turned to face the wizard, he had his own wand out, not to hex her, but to escape. He was trying to disapparate.

"EXPELIARMES!"

The man's wand flew across the boardwalk and into the sea below. He followed it's trajectory from his hooded face until it hit the water. Then, he turned and ran.

"I don't think so!" Mora roared. "IMMOBULUS!"

The man froze. Mora tread up beside him, her wand pressed at his throat dangerously. "Where did they take him?"

"I..." The man quivered; his voice was gruff, yet he was undeniably afraid.

"WHERE?"

"I don't know! I just needed the money! Please!" He pleaded. Mora ripped his hood away, revealing not the face of a stone-cold Death Eater as she imagined, but the lined, creased face of another. "I have a daughter, very sick, I needed the money to pay for her hospital bills! I never meant to hurt anyone!"

"Yeah, well, you should have thought of that _before you abducted my boyfriend_!" She boomed. "Where did the take him? To Voldemort?"

The man balked. "Wha-whaaa... He-Who-Must-Not -"

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT BULLCOKS!"

The man whimpered as Mora pressed her wand harder against his skin. "No, no, please!"

"Who sent you?"

"Not You-Know-Who, if that's what you're thinking," he rushed out. "No, no...I would never..."

"Yeah, I'm sure any Death Eater without a spine would say that..." she spat.

"I'm no Death Eater! I'm just a father desperate to provide for his daughter!" He persisted. "Please, don't kill me -"

"Fine, you're not one of Voldemort's. Who sent you then?"

The man was mute.

"You've stooped this low, eh?" Sirius growled, trying with all of his might to break his bonds. To any outsider, it would look as if Sirius was just sitting in a wooden, armed chair. Yet to the trained witch or wizard, it was clear the Black was a prisoner of a hefty, binding spell.

"Wriggle all you want, Black," Adam menaced, pacing behind the chair. "Or, try to wriggle, if you must... No, everything below your neck is as good as paralyzed. You're trapped."

"I will never be trapped." He continued to fight, willing with all of his might to get out of the chair. Yet, he could not budge.

"Still as stubborn, vain bastard?" the Healer quipped.

"Still a psychotic ginger?"

Grabbing a fistful of Sirius' hair, Adam reared Sirius head back sharply. "I could kill you without even blinking. I'd watch my mouth if I were you," he warned.

"Yeah, well," Sirius smirked, "Clearly you're not me. That's what this is all about, isn't Prewet?"

Adam released Sirius' head roughly. "You know nothing."

The Marauder snorted. "Oh, do I?" He could hear Adam resume his pacing. "Clearly, there's only one reason you dragged me here. Oh sorry, correction; why you hired thugs to drag me here for you, since you're too much of a pansy to do it yourself... You're jealous of me."

"No, Sirius, I'm not jealous," the captor said slowly. "I just think it's about time someone put you back in your place. Permanently."

"Oh you are _so_ jealous," Sirius went on. "You're jealous because Mora picked me."

Slowly, Adam strode around the chair, staring down at his prisoner with a face of contempt. "No, I'm not jealous. I'm disgusted, completely confunded, and -"

"We call that jealousy, mate," Sirius interjected.

Adam charged forward, kicking the magically chained Sirius in the stomach. The Gryffindor gasped as the wind was completely knocked out of him. "There's nothing to be jealous of! There was no bloody competition! Honestly, what in the world does she think you have that I don't? I'm the one with the position, the power, the money...what on earth could you possibly have compared to all of that?"

Sirius coughed, regaining control of his lungs. "Well, first of all," he started, still choking a bit as the pain in his stomach began to dull. "Mora doesn't give a rat's arse about those things. News flash, I've got money too, Prewett. It doesn't mean a bloody thing to her. Second of all, I don't talk about her as if she's my bloody property. And third -"

"Lovely, there's a third..." Adam rolled his eyes. "You were always one for theatrics, weren't you, Black?"

"She loves me." Sirius looked up to Adam, a defiant, smug satisfaction in his gray eyes. "She's loved me this whole time, even while you two were together."

"Oh really?"

"Well, yeah..." Sirius' smirk turned venomous. "Ever wondered why you two never shagged, mate?"

This time, Adam pulled out his wand. "_CRUCIO!_"

"Not so chatty now, huh?" Mora smacked him across the face. He yelped. "WHO SENT YOU?!"

"Alright, alright!" The man conceded. "His name is Colton Bayard!"

Her grip on his robes faltered slightly. Colton Bayard. Bayard had hired men to abduct Sirius. She hadn't seen Colton since...no, not Hogwarts. Mora would have gladly let her memories of that sod die with graduation. No, Colton had returned, once. Nearly one year ago, at the Halloween attack on Saint Elizabeth's Secondary School...

_"How about a trade?"_

_"You're not suggesting..."_

_"Me for him," Mora supplied. "Who cares if you kill some muggle kid. Take me, and I promise, you'll get the recognition you want."_

_The man remained still for several seconds, eyeing Mora with pure curiosity. "What do you care what happens to some filthy little nobody?" His eyes trailed to her wand._

_Mora, obliging to the man's gesture, lowered her weapon slowly, until she rested it upon the floor. She straightened back up to face the man. "It's my job." _

_In one movement, the man lifted his wand from the boy and flung him away. Using his newly freed hand, he grabbed Mora by the wrist, heaving her towards him until the two collided. Wandless, Mora knew she was staring down her death. She prepared for the final blow as his wand rested beneath her chin. "You're a fool, Miss Ashford," the man hissed. _

_Mora found herself gazing into a pair of honey eyes, eyes she remembered far too well..._

_"STUPEFY!" Mora heard Remus cry. A red jet of light raced towards the stranger's head, and instantly the stranger jerked himself and Mora out of its path. He now had Mora's back pressed against the wall with his wand glued to her. Mora thought this was it. A quick killing curse, and the end would come. Fallen in her first battle. That's what she expected. But she wasn't quite prepared for what she got._

_Closing whatever space had remained between them, the man's lips crashed over Mora's. It was short, but the intensity of the kiss was unreciprocated on Mora's part as she simply stood there, stunned by the stranger's rash action. _

_And in a flash, he was gone. _

"Not so funny now, Black?" Adam sneered. "C'mon, you were still cracking jokes four or five cruciatious curses ago. How you feeling now?"

Sirius looked up. "Peachy keen," he panted.

"Pity - we should fix that, shouldn't we?"

"You're really going through all this trouble, just because I ended up with Mora?" Sirius asked. "Honestly, I could see myself maybe torturing you to death over her, but I was never under the impression you were that in love with her."

"She was mine, you had no claim to her."

"Hello, she's a woman for Merlin's sake, not a broomstick! You can't bloody claim her!"

Adam turned his back to Sirius, weighing his wand in his hands back and forth. "It makes no difference now...there won't be much of a choice when they never find you're gone...And who will be there, with open arms for Mora to cry on?"

"I think Mora's made it very clear that she wants nothing to do with you," Sirius seethed. "You think me being dead will change that? Getting me out of the way won't stop Mora from hatting your sodding guts."

"Well, you see...grief is a very powerful thing." He turned back to Sirius, a smirk playing across his lips. "Brings people closer, if you know what I -"

"If you go near Mora, I swear to -"

"Oh, ideal threats," Adam drawled. "Scary, coming from the bloke tied to a chair."

"Scarier than the rat who has to bind me in order to beat me...C'mon Prewet. Didn't you ever want to find out who was really the better man? You and me, duel. Once and for all," he challenged.

Prewet chuckled. "You see, I don't need a petty fight to know that - I've already won, a thousand times over."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Wow, you really are that deluded, aren't you?"

"Yeah, we'll see whose deluded when I'm shacking up with my girlfriend again - or, I'll see, you'll be rotting at the bottom of the river."

"You are not going near her, ever." Sirius voice was much darker than he had ever heard himself.

"It'll be the cherry on top, Mora in my bed," Adam mocked. "But, you know, that's not the real reason I brought you here."

Sirius balked. "There's something else. Really?"

The healer paced around the chair. "Oh yes, Sirius. Something else. Something that I promise you will die for...Remember the Diagon Alley battle?"

"Colton Bayard?" she echoed.

"He has a lot of money, he promised my brothers and me if we grabbed this guy for him without hurting the girl, he'd pay us. Big. The both know, my brothers, how sick my little Lucy is, so they agreed. Please! That's the truth! Now let me g-"

"You're not going anywhere." She grabbed him by the collar of his robe. "You're expecting a pay day? Fine. I'll pay you double to take me to wherever your brothers took my boyfriend. Right now."

"You're bluffing..." The man grimaced.

"You're not really in a position to disagree anyway, are you?" She dragged him down the boardwalk. "Take me there now."

Sirius' brows furrowed. "It's a little fuzzy, considering I ended up in a coma - a coma you would have loved to see me in for the rest of my life. But yeah, I remember it. What's it matter to you?"

"You were supposed to die that day, Sirius."

"Yeah, well," he began, "I was never really one for keeping with the status quo, or you know, fulfilling evil plans."

"You're death was supposed to be the final act, the thing that would grant me entrance into the Dark Lord's ranks."

Sirius froze. "You're...you trying to get in the Death Eaters? _You little -"_

Adam ignored the outburst. "My hybrid was perfect. You should have suffered a slow, miserable death. But, you messed it up, didn't you Sirius?"

"Can we get back to the part where you're _a rat and an attempted-murderous phsyco?!_"

"You lived that day, Sirius," Adam hissed. "You lived, and it destroyed my prospects. Well, now you'll die."

With a loud snap, the pair appeared. With the man still firmly in her grasp, Mora took in her surroundings quickly. They were literally in the middle of nowhere. Hills rolled out into the infinite, barren except for a few weeds and patches of scraggly vegetation. Before her, a single, two-story , run-down house. More like a glorified shack in Mora's opinion. There was no paint, only the molding sheen of the wooden planks that formed the structure. The windows were boarded up, as was the door. The place was entirely deserted, except for a single light shining through the attic window...

"There," Mora pointed to the window.

The man nodded. "Yeah, that must be where they are..." He flinched.

Without hesitation, Mora dug into her purse, pulled out her wallet, and mustered up a rather subnational sum. She released the man, slamming the gallons at his chest. "Here - get your daughter the treatment she needs." He gathered the stray coins from the ground. "But if I ever cross paths with you again, I will kill -"

But he already disappeared; the last thing Mora ever saw of him was a look of horror, relief, and complete desperation mangled upon his face. Mora faced the house again. Her wand outstretched before her like a saber, she charged inside, the boards covering the entrance bursting to shards as she drew near. The house was dark, the smell of mildew nearly suffocating; but Mora had no time to pay it attention. She raced up the staircase, each step creaking in protest, louder and louder as she reached the second story. Cloaked completely in shadow, Mora dared not summon light with her wand. She made a noisy enough entrance already; coming back into her Order-mentality, she crept down the corridor. She needed the element of surprise here. Sirius' life hung in the balance. She knew the enemy would have no hesitation in attacking, her or Sirius. She knew her enemy far too well...

Colton Bayard. He was supposed to be a distant, terrible memory. It had been two years since they meet in McGonagall's transfiguration class, since Eric Bayard's nearly identical son forced his way into Mora's already far too complicated life. Since Colton decided to make Mora's life as hellish as he could manage. He was a bully, a pampered Bayard, but he pushed himself to be something much worse. The Trophy Room had certainly proven that.

And then, there was last Halloween. What the bloody hell was that?

What was Colton even doing there? Was he trying to impress the Death Eaters, show how he was just as tough as the rest of them? Was he trying to get in? And if that was it, why hadn't Mora seen anything of him since? Why hadn't he popped up at the rest of the scuttles the Order had with the Death Eaters? Why had he just disappeared?

As she reached the end of the hall, Mora found a door. Behind it, there were voices. This was it.

Wand outstretched, eyes of pure fire, Mora burst inside. "YOU BASTARD!" As she charged inside, all she found was Sirius, seated, bloodied, and clearly exhausted. "Sirius!" She came to his side.

"Mora, no don't it's a-"

"Expeliarmus!"

"...trap."

Her wand flew across the attic promptly. "Oh, bullocks..." she mumbled.

"Nice of you to join us, Mora," a man greeted. A man, but certainly not the one Mora had been expected.

She spun around, her expression completely dazed. "_Adam?_"

The redhead drew closer. "Expecting someone else?"

"Well, seeing as Colton Bayard hired those thugs, I was sort of expecting to find him. Looking forward to it actually..."

"Bayard? _BAYARD?_" Sirius shouted. He looked back to Adam, enraged. "What do you think you're playing at?"

"Playing? By now you should now I'm doing anything but playing."

"So, what, you figure you'd team up with Bayard, huh?" Mora stepped closer to Adam. "You both have it out for Sirius I guess...even though, he's just sort of the high school bully, and you're just the jealous ex... my God Adam - isn't this all a little...extreme?"

"He's the one who tried to kill me," Sirius rushed out, trying to connect the dots for Mora as quickly as possible, "He made the hybrid. He wanted to impress the Death Eaters, so they'd let him in."

Adam's gaze remained fixed upon Mora, who tried to digest this new development. "Let you _in?_"

"Surprise," he smirked.

"You...you infiltrated the Order. You used me," she said deafly.

"Little bit, yeah," Adam said.

"You," Her disbelief molded into rage, "You little -"

Adam tremored. The tremor then turned into a full convulsion.

"Mora, what are you doing to him?" Sirius asked. "I mean, not that I mind..."

"It's not me," she answered quickly.

"No," Adam gurgled out. He crashed to the ground, sending a cascade of dust in every direction. "NO! I have two more hours before ..." Shakily, the distressed healer dug into his robe pocket, wrenching out a vile. He tried to unscrew the top, but his fingers rattled, and the vile slipped out of his hands. It shattered, and the remnants of the unknown potion dissolved.

"NO!" Adam roared. He began to change. His limbs shrunk in length, yet grew muscle. His fiery ponytail shrunk in his skull, replaced with layers of matted, sandy hair. His freckles fizzled away. Adam clenched his eyes shut, willing the transformation to stop. When they opened again, they were honey-colored. The transformation was complete.

Mora stumbled back, her heart racing faster than it was ready for. She gazed in horror upon the man before her. "You..."

Colton Bayard rose to his feet. "Surprised?"


	74. Not This Time

74. Not This Time

"Surprised?"

Surprise didn't begin to cover in. Mora's mind swam amidst the confusion, untethered to her situation. She forgot that she was wandless, defenseless. She forgot that Sirius, the reason she was here in the first, the man she came to rescue, was still bound. She forgot the peril they were in. She forgot that they were essentially in the middle of nowhere. She did not notice as the man before her picked his wand up off the ground, while her own remained in the opposite corner of the attic.

Colton Bayard. Adam Prewet. One man Mora wanted nothing more to forget, another she had simply moved beyond. One Slytherin, one Ravenclaw. One man wretched, the other just misguided. One pure-blooded elitist, the other pure-blooded, but a healer, not an avenger for purity. One evil, the other good. One wannabe Death Eater, one Order member. One attempted rapist, one ex-boyfriend.

The same man.

"You..."

Colton smiled slightly, eerie the in the attic's dim light. "Yes, me indeed."

"How long?"

"Since," He took a step closer, Mora countering with a step back. "You remember Halloween, don't you?"

"Halloween, what happened on Halloween?" Sirius asked urgently. "Mora?"

"_Silencio_," Colton cast. The spell soared past Mora, hitting the intended target dead-on. Instantly Sirius was silenced.

"Well, turns out the Dark Lord was in fact pleased with my work that evening."

"Your work?" she seethed. "You call murdering work?"

"Well, usually I call it fun," he boasted. Mora's glare hardened. "Well, mixing my play with work, whatever you like to call it, caught the attention of the Dark Lord."

"I really doubt that," Mora said, "What on earth would the most powerful man in wizardkind need with slimy little you?"

Colton drew closer. His honey eyes gleamed with anticipation. "A man on the inside."

Mora said nothing. A spy. He was a spy.

This was very, very bad.

"I was summoned after Halloween, and my charge began immediately this following. They had picked up little Healer Prewet the night before - something to play with. But they kept him alive, harvested him for ingredients for -"

"Polyjuice potion," Mora supplied.

"You always were quite the Healer, weren't you?"

Mora gulped. She was quite certain she knew the answer, but she needed to ask. "How long have you been pretending to be him?" she demanded cooly.

"Since November third, nineteen seventy-nine."

November third. She hadn't formally met Adam until after New Year's. They didn't go on their first date until...

"So, this whole time."

Colton laughed. "Got you pretty good, didn't I, Mora?"

_A man on the inside_. Colton, a Bayard, had been chosen, chosen by Tom himself, to infiltrate. A spy. A spy who ended up as Mora's boyfriend? Something certainly didn't add up.

"So, what, your Master wanted you to get into the Order? That it, Bayard?"

"Actually, at first it was just in the hospital, figure out if they had anything of value, anything worth hiding..." Colton began circle around Mora, like a lion stalking it's pray

"Which comes up to a big no," Mora finished, counter circling. He may be a lion, but she would prove to be one hell of a lioness. No way in hell would she let Colton Bayard intimidate her.

"Saint Mungo's had nothing of interest; but it was still valuable to have an agent inside, watching the ins and outs."

"You were useless, I gather," she concluded. "No big weapon the hospital, nothing worth wasting time with a second-rate spy. So you had to get creative, right?"

Colton snickered. "I knew you and your little gaggle were Order. I figured if I got in with you, the information would come in droves."

_Information_. Mora's heart skipped.

"Not to mention," Colton stopped circling, and instead he swaggered closer to Mora. Reaching her, he placed his hands on her waist. "I always wanted a second go with you -"

_CRACK!_

Colton staggered backwards, Mora's blow snapping his nose. He groaned, grasping his face.

"You don't touch me, ever," she warned darkly.

Colton lowered his hand. Satisfaction played across his face, knowing that he had certainly gotten to her. "That's not what you said while we were together, pet."

Mora ignored him. "So you're a double-agent...wouldn't abducting Sirius in broad daylight and killing him jeopardize your cover? I doubt Voldemort cares much for your vendetta..."

"No, I doubt the Dark Lord cares much about me at all...you're little boyfriend made sure of that."

"The hybrid. You cast the hybrid on Sirius. You were banking on that sealing the deal, getting you into the Death Eaters."

"That curse is perfect," Colton said. "Perfectly crafted, elegantly lethal. Many have tried to create a curse of its kind. I am the only one to get it."

"Well, apparently you didn't get it very well."

He glowered. "You had to get in the way, didn't you?"

Mora's gaze hardened, stone cold against this advisory. "It's my job."

"You and your sodding _job..._"

"I was with you for months," she seethed. "I let you into my house, into my _life_, and you were -"

"A traitor? C'mon now..." he snickered, drawing closer once again. "Don't tell me you didn't like it..."

"Like it?" she echoed. "_LIKE IT?"_

"You remember what it was like, right Mora?" He stepped even closer, so that they were less than a meter apart. "When I touched you, kissed you -"

"You tried to rape me," she spat out.

He looked her up in down, slowly, drinking in every aspect of her. He reached her eyes again, pure malice and delight glowing in his honey stare. "It's not rape if you want it."

Rearing her hand back, Mora moved to punch him square in the jaw. Yet as she released, he caught her arm in the air. "I don't think so, pet."

Mora tried to pull her arm out of his grasp, but his fingers dug into her flesh. "Get off me, Bayard," she hissed.

"Now..." His grin magnified. "Why would I want to do that?"

With every molecule, thought, and will, Sirius tried to move. He tried his arms, his legs, his torso. When that didn't work, he tried is hands, his fingers, his toes - _anything_! Sirius had to get up. He had to break the binding spell, he needed to get out of that chair, and he needed to rip Colton Bayard apart, limb from limb. There was no alternative - he had to get up, and he had to get up now. He had to save Mora. She had saved him; now it was his turn.

Colton Bayard's eyes burned straight through her, burning with anger, with vengeance, and to Sirius' complete horror - with lust.

_...It's not rape if you want it..._

Sirius was going to kill him.

Sirius had failed Mora once. It was his petty war with Bayard that caused any of this. A child's war, prank warfare, with the trenches in the Hogwarts corridor. It was so juvenile, but it all seemed so bloody important at the time. And what had come of it? Sirius pushed Bayard to that point. Bayard was sick and twisted as it was, and of course his revenge on Sirius wouldn't be cut and dry. Of course it would be disturbing. Of course it wouldn't be fair. It wouldn't be an eye for an eye. Not in a million bloody years. No, Colton Bayard came at Sirius the way that would hurt the Gryffindor the most. He went after the one person Sirius loved over everyone and everything, even back then.

He went after Mora. In the sickest, cruelest way.

All Sirius had to do was get there faster. All he had to do that night was realize what was happening, to figure out what he was planning to do to her. All he had to do was reach the Trophy three, four minutes sooner. He might have been able to stop the whole thing - no, not might. He would have. He would have prevented it. But he didn't.

Sirius had failed Mora.

He couldn't sit back now and fail her again. He couldn't watch as Bayard did it again. He couldn't watch his love - wandless - try to fend off this maniac. Bayard thought he had nothing to lose; His dream of being a prized little Death Eater was long gone, and his cover as Adam Prewet was definitely blown. Nothing to lose, making him capable of absolutely anything.

_GET THE BLOODY HELL AWAY FROM MY GIRLFRIEND! _Sirius tried desperately to scream, to no avail.

"Get off," Mora growled.

"I always knew you were a girl to like it rough -"

She spit straight in his eye - and not a dainty, girly spit either. A big, resentful, nasty lugiee.

_That's my girl_, Sirius cheered to himself.

Colton jerked backward, instinctively. Mora pulled her arm away, but before she could retreat, Colton smacked her clean across the face. The sound of the blow reverberated through the entire attic, through Sirius' core. She hit the ground.

Groaning, Mora leaned up. Blood trickled steadily from her lip. Colton towered above her. "I thought I told you I'd teach you how to treat me..."

With all of his might, Sirius tried to lunge forward. He tried to kick, to scream, to charge the bastard out the window. But he couldn't so much as flinch.

All he could do was watch. The binding spell had intensified, and Sirius could not even look away. He could only watch.

He had failed.

Mora looked up at Colton. She needed to catch him off balance, and fast. She needed to get him unsteady, get his wand, and then get her and Sirius out of there as fast as possible. But as Colton pulled his wand from his pocket, Mora's window of opportunity slammed shut. "Really, Bayard? You need to curse a girl in order to get some?" she mocked.

Colton flashed a smile, which pulled Mora's insides together. Carelessly, he tossed his wand over his shoulder. It landed across the attic, which felt like miles and miles away from Mora. "No, I don't need magic for this," he sauntered. "No, I want to really enjoy this..."

All she had to do was get that wand...

The healer rose to her feet. "You aren't going to touch me."

The wand was her ticket out of here...

"Oh, I'm going to much more than that."

She just had to get past him...

His eyes taunted her. "You just have to sit back and enjoy the ride."

If she got past him...

"You bastard."

Got to the wand...

"Fiesty, are we?"

She just needed the wand...

Bayard caught Mora's eyes glancing at the far corner of the attic, where the weapon lay. He laughed shortly. "Go on," he said, "Go get it."

She charged. She tried to dodge past him, to slip right by, but Colton was more than ready for her. Grabbing her by her shoulders, Colton threw her to the ground. She landed on her back, her spine twisting. She cried out.

"That's right, pet," he laughed, kneeling over her. "Scream for me."

"GET OFF!" She pushed against his chest, hard, trying to knock him off.

Colton ignored her. Instead, he turned his attention to what lay behind her - Sirius, magically chained to his seat. "You know, Black, I'm glad you're here..."

"Let him go," Mora ordered.

"No, no, don't worry about him," Colton said. "Once we're done, he can watch me kill you."

This time, no one was coming to save her.

"But, only when we're done," he supplemented.

And this time, she didn't need anyone to save her.

With all her might, Mora swung straight into Colton's face, her fingernail digging into his left eye.

"AUUUG!" he yelled, both hands shooting up to the eye, gushing with blood.

No, Mora didn't need a savior. She had herself.

Taking full advantage of Colton's surprise, she forced him off her. She jumped to her feet, and made an instant break for the wand.

"YOU BITCH!" He tried to grab her ankle. She turned, roughly kicking him in the face. She raced forward.

Yet, somehow, Colton got to his feet and charged her. He pulled her back to the ground. "YOU BLOODY LITTLE -"

Even though her back was to the ground, Mora managed to knee Colton, roughly, in the groin. He groaned, tumbling off her again. She shoved him aside and got back to her feet.

She rushed further, kept just as she were to reach the wand, a hand wretched her backwards by the nape of her neck. He pulled her against him, one arm around her waist, dragging her backwards. The hand that had been on her neck now squeezed, cutting off her oxygen. She gasped.

Her arms still free, Mora did the only thing she could think of. Reaching to her side, she caught hold of an old desk lamp. Before Colton could see what she was doing, she slammed it against the side of his head. He released her, his arms flaying, and she hit him again. And again. With each blow to the head, more blood erupted. Colton fell to the ground, and with one final blow, he was motionless.

"No, Bayard," she said. "Not this time."


	75. Survivors

75. Survivors

The Saint Mungo's corridor had been completely vacated, all but two Order members and three additional healers. The Order members stood outside the viewing window, safely looking in the from the hallway. The healers worked over the patient beyond the window, inside the room.

Worked over a man who definitely deserved to die for all that he had done.

But they were healers, not executioners. It was their duty to heal anyone, everyone, who was brought in those doors. They had taken a solemn oath to do so. And Mora, being a healer herself who had taken the very same oath, had no choice but to bring the patient in for treatment. Yet as she stood in the hallway, staring through the viewing window, all she felt was remorse. She wished she could have left him to die. She wished she could have had it inside her to deliver that final, fatal blow. She wished that after she had magically freed Sirius, she would have let him kill the man for her, as he had offered.

As the healers worked over Colton Bayard, Mora knew it was wrong. It was ethically right, but deep in Mora's heart, in her mind, in her everything, she wanted to watch the rat suffer and die. She had never felt that way about anyone, not even Tom Riddle.

"The healers said when we brought him in that he would make it," Mora reported dully to the man who stood beside her.

"For certain?" her companion asked.

"Well..." She couldn't help but feel a bit of vengeful glee at the prospect of his death. "The word they used was _probably._"

"Mora, despite the terrible, terrible things that have been done to you..." Albus Dumbledore took his eyes away from the window, and turned his attention to the bruised Healer beside him. "I know you are no killer."

Mora's stare remained on the glass before her, and the people beyond it. "I should have been. I should have finished him, right there in that attic."

"But you didn't," Dumbledore asserted gently. "You did not kill."

"He was going to kill us. He was going to rape me in front of Sirius, then he was going to make Sirius watch me die. Then he was going to kill Sirius." Her words fell from her lips flatly. The fear was gone, all that remained was the remorse, the filth. "I should have finished him."

"We do not end lives," Dumbledore said. "Only in the line of duty, when there is no alternative, does the Order of the Phoenix condone lethal action. You had the alternative, and you took it. For this, I am proud of you, Mora."

She looked up to him, her eyes dazed. "Proud...? I almost let this man kill Sirius, I let him attack me, _again_ -"

"You did not _let_ anything happen," Dumbledore interjected. "What Colton Bayard chose to do has nothing to do with you. He attacked you due to no fault of your own."

The two stood in silence for a few moments, watching the operation. "He was an inside agent, Albus." Mora's spirits plummeted once more. "He got in the Order. We don't know how much he knows, what he's passed on..." She dropped her voice. "We don't know how much he knows about..." She couldn't finish.

"I believe your identity is still safe, Mora," Dumbledore said. "It seems Colton wanted you to believe he was more involved than he actually was... Colton Bayard did not pass information directly to Voldemort. He went through another Death Eater. A young Death Eater. He reported to him, and this Death Eater filtered what Colton Bayard had collected - filtered heavily. All he reported of you was that Colton had become intimate with the Healer, and when those intimacies ceased."

"How do you know this? Any of this?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "You don't think Voldemort is the only one with a man on the inside, do you?"

Mora smile reappeared momentarily. "You certainly are a force to be reckoned with, Albus."

"As are you, Mora," he complimented with full sincerity. "I could not be more proud of what you did tonight. Coming to Sirius' aid without a moment's hesitation, triumphing the way you did..."

"Well, Sirius and I have that kind of history...apparently one of us gets in trouble, usually him, and the other saves them."

"I guess I just make a really good damsel in distress," a voice quipped from down the hall. Mora spun around instantly, spotting Sirius as he walked over slowly. "Must be the hair, all dashing and what not..."

"Glad to see you are in good health again, Sirius," Dumbledore greeted happily.

"Had to...couldn't stand another elongated stay in this place..." He stopped, a few meters away from the viewing window. "Mora, you ready to go?"

She nodded. "Please," she affirmed. She strode to Sirius side, slipping her fingers comforatbly with his, like slipping back into a glove. "Get me out of here," she smiled.

They entered the house slowly. Sirius flicked his wand, igniting the lights on the wall.

"Accck," Mora moaned.

"Too bright?" Instantly, Sirius lowered the lights.

"Much better," she said, closing door behind her. She began to pluck off her coat, but stopped as she bent her arm the wrong way, aggravating one of her new bruises. She winced.

Sirius noticed, and without asking he hurried behind her and pulled the jacket off.

"Thank you, Sirius," she said.

"It's the least I can do," he said as he hung it up on the hook. He turned back to Mora, his face carved with guilt.

"Sirius..."

"Please, Mora, don't make excuses for me."

She came before him, taking his hands in her own. "There was not-"

"Don't tell me there was nothing I could do."

"You were tied to a sodding chair," Mora reminded, her voice curving towards anger.

"Yeah, and whose fault is that? Who got bloody kidnapped in the first place?"

"It was three against one."

"And I'm the one who got you into this mess." Sirius cast his stormy eyes away. "I'm the reason Bayard ... It's me, Mora. It's my fault. Nothing you, or Dumbledore, or anyone can say can change that."

"You know what? Fine."

Sirius looked back to Mora, bewildered. "What?"

"You're right. Colton probably wouldn't have attacked me twice if I wasn't tied to you. I can't deny that... Honestly, Sirius, does that remind you of anything?"

Sirius remained mute as Mora walked closer.

"So, Colton Bayard is part of the anit-Sirius Black brigade...remember who wants to slaughter me and everyone I've ever met?"

The wall lights blared to full height again, making Mora clench her eyes shut in pain.

"OH MY GOD!"

Lily raced down the stairs, her nightgown flapping behind her as she wrapped her arms around both Sirius and Mora in a deathly tight embrace. "You're safe!" she sobbed.

"Yes, Lily, we're fine," Sirius droned. "Or, we were until you decided to squeeze us to death."

"Oh, yes, sorry there," she apologized, releasing them. Behind Lily now stood Remus and James.

"Did we keep you all up? I'm -"

"Mora, if you even think of saying you're sorry..." Remus trailed off, his warning substantial enough.

Mora threw her hands up in retreat. "Alright, alright. I surrender."

"Do you need anything? Water? Food? Dinner?"

"Lil, I promise we're fine -"

"How about you, Mora? You need -"

Mora placed a hand over her frazzled redheaded friend's. "Lily. Thank you. I'm fine though, okay? Little bumped, a little bruised, but on the whole, I'm just exhausted. I could do with a hot shower and a good night's sleep...Sirius probably feels the same."

"Right, right, of course!"

"Lily, why don't we let them go off to bed then, yes?" James urged, taking Lily by the hand.

"Of course," she conceded again, although her voice indicated her taking charge, as if the idea had been hers the whole time.

"If you say so, Lil," Sirius added.

"Yes...off then!" She demanded in her mothering voice.

Days passed, and the two slowed resumed normality, once again. The bruises faded, the scrapes healed over, they were almost good as new. October faded to November, November to December. The little family kept on, fighting for the Order, going to work, but most of all, raising Harry. The little Potter was growing faster than they had expected, and already the baby was crawling all over the house, waddling away from his parents to discover what laid in each room's nooks and crannies.

But Mora knew something was still off. She and Sirius tried to embrace normality, to go back to their original stasis of boyfriend-girlfriend bliss. But they couldn't seem to get back into their former rhythm. That night in the attic had stripped something away. No amount of pleasantries could erase it. Mora didn't know whether Sirius couldn't come to forgive himself, or accept what had happened that night, or try to push past the images of what Colton tried to do... But something was wrong.

As snow fell around the manor, and the Black-Ashford-Lupin-Potter Christmas tree was finally hauled into the living room, Mora couldn't wait for normalcy. She couldn't wait for her and Sirius to be okay again. She didn't want to sit back and watch as what they had fell apart completely. She couldn't let Colton win. Colton Bayard should have been more than a distant memory - he was in what the Healers determined to be a permanent coma, a coma thanks to Mora, in Saint Mungo's. Colton Bayard would never come near Mora, Sirius, or their family again. But Colton's memory had settled over the manor, and before it took hold of them completely, Mora would fight it.

Colton Bayard would not win. More importantly, Mora would not lose Sirius.

He was, without question, the best thing that had ever happened to Mora. He was so much more than she could ever imagined. Honestly, he was a complete pain in the arse. He was beyond stubborn, he refused to listen a thing anyone told him, he acted like a complete git at times, he was to obsessed with his hair, he completely cocky about being an auror, he forget to put the toilet seat down.

But he was perfect for her.

He gave her strength. He gave her laughter. He gave her everything she could have ever wished for, and so much more. He gave her a few headaches, and probably one day premature gray hair; but he gave her love. Love so complete and real Mora couldn't imagine her life without it, without him. Without Sirius.

Sirius came down the stairs, his steps jumbled. "Lil? I can't find the ornaments," he called. "Where's Lily...?"

"She took James, Remus, and Harry down to the village," Mora reported. "Something about your Christmas ornaments looking like a four year old made them..."

Sirius pouted. "I picked our ornaments out myself last year!"

"All the more reason Lily demanded a new set."

"So..." Sirius began, reaching the bottom of the stairs.

"It's just us," Mora said. "They could take a while...Lily wants Harry's first Christmas to be beyond perfect."

Sirius shuffled closer, his hands digging into his pockets. "You didn't so happen to send the lovely parents, the darling baby boy, and the werewolf on a shopping spree to buy some alone time, did you?"

Mora smiled slyly. "What would possibly make you think that?"

Sirius smiled as well. "You are a little devil, aren't you?"

"I try..." She kissed him, at first lightly, and then with more intensity.

Sirius pulled away. "Easy there, luv..."

"Why, Sirius? Why easy?" she demanded.

"I just...we can't you know, get carried away..." he managed to string together.

"Sirius, this isn't getting carried away! This is a boyfriend and a girlfriend expressing how they feel about each other!"

"I just don't want to push you."

"Clearly, I'm the one pushing you here. Yeah okay, if you had wanted to snog a week after the attic, I would have told you to cool off a little. But it's been two months, Sirius. Two months!"

"Yeah," he snapped. "Two months since I watched him tried to rape and kill you."

"But he didn't," she assured. "He didn't even come close to raping me. I beat the guy into a coma for Merlin's sake."

A hint of a smile spread across his face. "Hell hath no fury..."

"You're damn right," she laughed.

They shared this short, bright moment of laughter, before Sirius plunged back into the severity. "It got a little close, Mora."

"Fine, a little," she conceded. "If you want to say it was a little close, I can live with that."

"It's not what I want to say!" He defended. "It's what happened. I'm sure how you're dealing -"

"Sirius," she cut him off, her voice no longer agitated. "Sirius, I've dealt. This time was much different than last time. I fought. I won."

"Damn right you did..."

"I'm not going to lie to you, I can't lie to you; it took some time. But look at me." She took his hand. Her eyes locked with his, unwavering. "I'm here. I'm me. I'm okay. Trust that, Sirius. Trust me."

She kissed him. This time, he did not pull away. "I'm sorry, Mora," he said as their lips parted. "I'm sorry if I've been distant. It's just ... I haven't been okay."

"You're still dealing."

Sirius nodded. "I had to watch. I understand that there's nothing I could have done, which only makes it worse. I was about to watch you die. That's something I haven't been able to cope with, Mora. I'm sorry if I've been taking it out on you, or on us..."

"Okay, that's okay," Mora reassured, resting her hands behind his neck. "I'm here, Sirius. I'm here, you're here, and we'll get through this together."


End file.
